Arc 3: 08 Fragments
by Macx
Summary: This is a compilation of small scenes/short stories not fitting anywhere else, dealing with the past (before 'Initiation' or 'Silent Voices') and the present of all factions


**Fragments**   
by Birgit Staebler

  
-- PAST --

I. To Die For

"We have to go! Move it!"   
The insistent voice got through the daze he was in, jolting him back to reality. Skywolf blinked, wincing as he saw the mutilated, charred corpse at his feet. Something had ripped the chest apart like paper and energon was splattered all over the ground. The former lively optics were nothing but shattered colorless prisms.   
Icefall.   
Cut down in cold blood, his core unit smashed, his body kicked and blasted repeatedly to make sure he was really dead. Icefall had been an assassin, taking the brunt of the rage inside the killers because of it.   
"Wolf! Move!"   
Someone grabbed his arm and pulled him away. His instincts screamed, resisting the retreat. There were many more of his friends out there, fighting, hurt, dying.... He could help. He was a medic, for Cybertron's sake!   
"It's no good," the deep voice told him forcefully and the hand on his shoulder was like a vice.   
"But...."   
"No!" Thon Roque gave him a rough shove and he almost stumbled. "We are losing this battle and I don't want to see more of my friends cut down like droids!" The massive robot dragged him along.   
Skywolf cried inside, his pain all emotional. Around him buildings blew, blasts rocked the streets, made bridges collapse and towers sway. Angry streams of deadly fire followed their retreat, searching for a target to obliterate. All targets bore the same symbol: Sentinel. It was their symbol of death. The former slaves didn't care who was wearing it. They simply killed the bearer. The Quintessons were gone and their former bodyguards, executioners and assassins were on their own.   
"What about the others? The sleeping body shells?" he asked, voice trembling.   
"We can't do anything for them anymore," Roque rumbled, pain audible in the few words.   
They met up with more survivors, fighting back against the angry mob of former slaves. They tried not to kill any of them, even though in two cases Skywolf saw it was impossible. Then he was inside the stolen space ship, watching F/X key in the commands and open the thrusters. They took off with as much speed as they could risk, gaining distance from their homeworld, from those out to kill them. Skywolf discovered two more ships following them.   
"Why?" he whispered as he sank back into his chair.   
Thon Roque looked at him, a stony expression on his face. "Because of what we are."   
Skywolf dimmed his optics in pain, his mind reaching out to those still on the planet, those not yet conscious, not yet alive..... he knew they would not survive.   


She woke and was greeted by sounds of battle; explosions, gunfire, metal creaking and groaning. Her optics came on-line and the first thing she saw was the orange-yellow blossom of fire exploding over her chamber. She gasped and scrambled out of the tight cylinder, stumbling, her systems fighting to go on-line faster than they should have. A slimy substance oozed off her, dripping onto the floor, drying in the stuffy hot air around her. She recognized it as nurturing fluids for her skin.   
A door flew open with a bang and she heard angry voices. Instinct told her to hide and she spread her wings, launching herself up into the air, among the still closed cylinders containing her kind. She tried to access her memory core, tried to find out what was going on, but it seemed like the computer had not supplied the information before activating her. Or the link had been cut off while the data had been transferred.   
Looking down she saw about a dozen robots stream into the room, looking around. They were mostly humanoid in design, about her size, branded with different symbols. Not her symbol. And then they started firing on the chambers. She gasped as she saw the chambers explode, body shells falling out, some alive, some waking up – and all soon dead. The strangers killed them mercilessly, not even looking at them.   
"No!" she whimpered, pushing deeper into the shadows, trying to merge into invisibility.   
It didn't help.   
"There's one up there!" one of the robots cried.   
Half a dozen weapons suddenly pointed at her. She fled, but one of the shots raining down on her, caught her in the hip, the next slamming home in her shoulder, the last almost severing her wing off her back. She cried out in pain, falling, unable to stop her descent. She slammed onto the floor, unable to cry out at the new pain shooting through her.   
She heard steps and a triumphant torrent of voices.   
"Kill it!" one demanded.   
She whimpered. What had she done? Who were they? Why were they doing this?!   
"Stop!" a new voice commanded.   
"But, A-3!"   
"I said stop!" the voice said again. It was a gentle voice with an edge of steel.   
She looked up, one optic only barely functioning. She discovered a gray and wine red colored robot approaching her, kneeling down. His face was drawn into an expression of pity. She winced away when he reached for her and the pity turned into sadness.   
"I won't hurt you. My name is A-3....."   
"Kat," she managed, voice box failing. "Why ..... why did you do this....? What did ...I do?"   
He touched her shoulder, his hands as gentle as his voice. "Nothing, Kat. You only bear the wrong symbol."   
"But ...."   
He gave her a sad smile. "I know. I am sorry for what my friends did to you."   
"Killed all...." she whispered.   
A-3 briefly looked over to the smoking remains of the chambers. "Yes, all," he muttered.   
"Kill her!" a voice rose from behind him and an angry fire lit up the blue optics.   
"Who said this?!" he demanded and rose.   
A silver and green robot stepped out of the group, looking defiantly at the other. "She is one of them! A killer! I say we kill her before she kills us!"   
"Kills us, Delta? Why should she? There are no Quintesson masters to order her to! She has just been born and she doesn't even know what this world is she was born into! Only that it wants to kill her!" A-3 gestured at the destruction behind him. "Those you killed were innocents! No programming, no orders, no alliance! Do you feel powerful now? Killing those who don't even know why they die? The Quintessons commanded them, gave them orders, and they had to follow like we had to!"   
Delta shuffled his feet.   
A-3 turned back to her and she felt her vision fading. She coughed, her oxygen filters clotting with fluids. Her body was on fire, but the was feeling a slow numbness creeping up her spine. He touched her face.   
"I'm so sorry, Kat. It should not have happened."   
"Others like me... they survived?" she wanted to know.   
He nodded. "Some fled, yes."   
She smiled. "What am I?" she then wanted to know.   
"You are a Sentinel, Kat."   
Her smile grew. Sentinel. It sounded nice.   
Her mind dimmed as did her optics, slowing down, blackness enveloping her in loving arms. Her pain passed into nothingness and she sighed deeply.   
Everything grew misty.   
Warm.   
Oblivion.   


A-3 felt a stab of pain inside of him as he watched death claim another Sentinel. Kat was a beautiful female, her body slender, colored in smooth creme and soft brown. Wings adorned her back. Her skin was covered by something sticky, something that had to be the fluid the shells were kept in. Now this body was torn and burned.   
A spark had died.   
Needlessly. Senselessly. Because of what the symbol on her chest claimed she was. A Sentinel.   
A-3 gathered the dead female in his arms and carried her out of the room, the looks of the others following him, silence weighing heavily on the room.   
Outside, the battle was over. Cybertron was theirs. The Quintessons were gone, as were their Sentinels.   
It had been a gruesome victory.

* * *   


II. Encounter

The sky around him was filled with lightning, but not of the natural kind. It was artificial lightning, deadly and aimed at him. He gunned his engine, his fuel pump racing, heat radiating off his engine block. He felt the throbbing of the energon inside of him, the giddiness of speed, the fiery blasts missing him just by an inch. Hoping to shake his pursuers somewhere in the small forest only a few miles away, he channeled all his energy into this last desperate attempt. He would be dead metal if he didn't make it.   
But they were not easily shaken off. They aimed their weapons, firing again and again. It was getting too close for his comfort now. He was already injured, the tear in his chassis an aching reminder of his own stupidity – and his missing back-up. Where were they? He had radioed for help but none was coming!   
"We got you now, Autobot!" one of his pursuers chortled gleefully.   
He clenched his teeth, anger surging through him. Suddenly one of the laser shots punched through his tires. The material, impervious to normal damage through simply things like sharp metal parts, exploded and he was thrown off the road, crashing heavily into a wall. The tear in his side opened more and energon leaked out.   
He transformed, one hand pressed to his side, groaning. A damage report came up and he realized he was heavily leaking. He launched his auto repair system to at least close this leak down, knowing that it might be an empty move. He was about to die.   
"Gotcha!"   
He looked up and caught sight of his hunters: Decepticons, both aerial transformations, now touching down. Their weapons were pointed at him and their faces showed triumph.   
"Say bye-bye, Autobot!" the larger of the two mocked –   
-- and was suddenly thrown forward by a blast.   
"What?!" the second Decepticon cried, whirling around.   
He tried to defend himself but the anonymous shooter hit him twice. He collapsed beside his friend, either unconscious or dead.   
Hot Rod looked at who had saved his hide. The other one was larger and taller than he was, colored in deep red, blue and silvery white. While he had no apparent mouth, the lower region of his face covered by a face plate, his eyes were expressive enough to make up for that handicap; at least a handicap for those who wanted to read his facial expression. He was an impressive sight, Hot Rod had to confess, but impressive sights had never been something to intimidate him. That the stranger had shot the Decepticons meant nothing. That he wore an Autobot symbol was equally no reason to trust him immediately. Hot Rod had been fighting Cons in this quadrant long enough and they had used every trick in the book, even hiding behind the Autobot insignia. He grasped his gun, leveling it at the newcomer.   
"Who are you?" he demanded.   
The other robot gave him a slight smile, visible in his blue optics. "Do you always threaten someone who rescues you from a pair of Decepticons?" he asked, his voice relaying the same amusement that showed in his eyes.   
"Only until I know whom I'm dealing with," Hot Rod countered. Kup might call him hot headed, but he knew how to survive. He heaved himself upright against the support of rocks, one hand clutching the bleeding tear.   
"My name is Optimus Prime. And you are ...?"   
Hot Rod knew his mouth was hanging open and that his weapon was falling to his side. Optimus Prime? The almost legendary Autobot leader? And he had nearly shot him? He had never met him in person, only heard stories.... Then his suspicion kicked in and he aimed at the other robot again.   
"Yeah, who says so?" he demanded. It wouldn't be the first time that the Decepticons tried to trick them.   
Optimus cocked his head, still looking a bit amused. "I do. But you don't trust me, do you?"   
"Nope. At least not without some proof first." He was losing energon – fast. His emergency repair system was battling the damage but he had not enough energon to keep it running and was losing even more because of it. Vicious circle.   
The Autobot leader, if it really was him, Hot Rod tried to remind himself, nodded. "All right. I'll prove it to you."   
He held up his hands, indicating he wasn't going to shoot, then touched his chest plate. It swung open, revealing something every Autobot alive knew through the many tales attached to it, maybe even by instinct.   
"The Matrix," Hot Rod gasped. The blue light of the Autobot Matrix of leadership touched him and he felt strange. The feeling lasted only for a second, not longer, but it was enough for Hot Rod to know that he was really facing Optimus Prime.   
"Ah...." he stuttered, then pulled himself together. "The name's Hot Rod." He tried to get his composure back. "I'm ... I'm sorry."   
Optimus Prime smiled even more, though there was a strange look in his optics. "I understand your suspicion, Hot Rod." Then he looked at the injury. "You need help."   
Hot Rod looked at the wound. "Oh, that. Nothing at all." He straightened and winced, his optics dimming in pain.   
"Of course."   
He took a step and then his knees gave way. His systems shut down with a protesting screech only he could hear and the world went black.

Optimus Prime caught the brightly colored, young Autobot and kept him from falling to the ground. One hand was immediately smeared with energon leaking out of the large tear. He sighed.   
"Of course," he repeated.   
Then he scooped him up and walked back to the base, ignoring the two Decepticons.

Springer groaned as he saw his friend on the treatment table of the make-shift med bay. Download was working on Hot Rod, patching him back together in his usual effective and calm way. Nothing could distract him from his task, not even a bomb going off in the next room. Arcee was at his side, looking a bit anxious. Springer suspected she and Hot Rod had something cooking, but it wasn't his business.   
"He's going to be all right, Arcee," he said nevertheless, bestowing a bright grin upon the pink and silver female. "He's stubborn."   
She nodded, smiling slightly.   
Springer looked over his shoulder and glanced toward where Optimus Prime was talking to Ultra Magnus. Optimus Prime! The Autobot leader! Here on Xon! He hadn't believed his own optics when the legendary figure had walked in, carrying an unconscious Hot Rod. He didn't know why he was here but there had to be a reason. Their base was on the outskirts and though they had Decepticon trouble it was nothing they couldn't really handle.   
Well, he thought sourly as he looked back at Hot Rod, most of the time anyway.   


Optimus Prime nodded at Ultra Magnus and the commander walked over to the com console. His optics fixed on the unconscious young Autobot; Hot Rod. There was something about him, something special. It wasn't visible on the outside. It was hidden deep inside, under layers of shields, hidden even from Hot Rod himself.   
But Optimus Prime had felt it when he had revealed the Matrix. He didn't know why he had done it – the Matrix had sent a surge of energy through him and he had acted according to it.   
The Matrix.   
It had reacted to Hot Rod. He didn't know what it meant exactly because he had never felt this before, but he knew that this young Autobot was somehow different. He would try to find out, but right now he had more pressing matters on his mind.   
Optimus Prime turned away and joined Magnus at the terminal.

* * *   


III. Broken Future

The dark-haired man sat on the grass, not minding the dampness as he stared at the small lake in front of him. There weren't many people around because this was a very secluded spot, away from the paved ways that snaked through the clusters of tall trees, lakes and wide open grassy areas. It was early in the evening and getting colder. Summer was still some months away and the Pshat winter was always harsh. Watching the birds on the lake, the man didn't hear the approaching footsteps.   
"Steve?"   
Steven Parker didn't look up as the blond newcomer stepped up to him. There was a short silence, then the blond lowered himself down on the grass, too.   
"Steve, what are you doing here?" Kyle Scott asked softly. "We've been worried sick about you. Midnight didn't want to tell us anything and not even Wolf can get through to him."   
"Sorry, 'bout that," Steve muttered, still not looking at him. "Didn't want that."   
"Why are you here?"   
He shrugged.   
Kyle sighed softly. Judging from his friend's closed off face and his short answers, he wasn't in a talkative mood. It had been Jill who had remarked to Kyle that Steve was behaving strangely.   


"Kyle, I'm worried.."   
"Why?" Kyle asked, though he thought he knew.   
"Did you notice Steve's behavior lately? He's not himself." The white-haired woman shook her head.   
Kyle frowned, nodding. He had noted Steve's reactions and overall behavior lately. He was testy, constantly irritated by everything and twenty-four hours a day moody. He seemed to live apart from the other Interfaces, as if their company was too much for them.   
It was a bit like two centuries ago when Midnight had stepped into the Sentinels' midst, but then it had been because of different reasons and he had never reacted so hostile to friendly attempts to talk.   
"Yes, I noticed that."   
"I think it affects him more than he wants to confess or believe, Kyle," Jill continued with a worried look in her eyes. "We have to talk to him. It floods Midnight now and since he won't talk either it must be something big."   
Kyle's frown deepened. Talking to Steve in his current mood was dangerous. "And you think I'm the one least in danger of getting decapitated, huh?"   
She smiled. "No, but you are his best friend. Somehow he trusts you the most."   
He placed his tools back on the table. "Where is he?"   
"We don't know." Jill looked at her watch. "But he's been gone too long.".   


Kyle had done the only thing possible: he had gone off in search of their missing friend. Steve wasn't at his usual places and Kyle had been frustrated after he hadn't found a single trace of the former Rift pilot. Then he had remembered this place. Steve had once remarked about the peace and quiet he felt there. They had been to this planet several times in the last decades, mainly because it was somewhere where giant robots didn't stand out.   
"Steve?"   
Parker turned his head, intense blue eyes gazing at him with complete disinterest.   
"Steve, what is the matter?"   
Steve frowned as if he couldn't make any sense of Kyle's question. "What's the matter with what?" he wanted to know, looking away again.   
"What is the matter with you?"   
"Nothing."   
Kyle sighed silently. Steve was absolutely defensive. His shoulders were rigid and his jaw was set. He was playing difficult.   
"It's what happened last month, right?"   
Steve flinched, briefly closing his eyes. Kyle had been afraid of this.   
"Steve...." Kyle tried again. "Please talk to me."   
"Nothing to talk about."   
"Yes, there is," the medic insisted.   
"No, Kyle, don't ....."   
"Why? Do you think you are alone with your emotions? Don't you think we have experienced it before?" Kyle asked quietly.   
"If you mean Jill, that is different," Steve muttered.   
"No, it isn't. True, she lived with her husband, had children, watched them grow and have children of their own, but do you think it's much easier to leave this life behind? You didn't want to risk it and I think it's not as painful in the end."   
Steve shook his head. "That's where you are wrong."   
"You love her, that I understand, Steve. I understand emotional pain and I understand longing. What you have to understand is that you didn't have to make the decision because of what the future holds."   
Angry blue eyes blazed at him all of a sudden. "Oh yes?! Chatera is mortal! I am Interfaced! I'm hurting her by simply existing! She'll grow old and die; I'll stay alive and young. I would see my children die..... I can't do this, Kyle! I should never have started this relationship!"   
"But you felt alone."   
Steve winced. "Yes."   
"We all went through the same, my friend, and we still do." He shrugged. "You have to decide what to do, whether to accept the consequences or the loneliness."   
"Then I'll choose the loneliness, Kyle," Steve whispered.   
Sadness flooded through the blond medic and he sighed.   


Steve lowered his head onto his drawn up knees. He closed his eyes, shutting out the man beside him. He didn't want to tell Kyle about his turmoil of unsettled emotions. He knew his friend was right about everything, though. He couldn't handle what had happened, but he wouldn't let that fall onto the others. He would have to fight this battle alone if he wanted to continue his life. He knew that being Interfaced meant eternity and that he would have to handle what it threw at him.   
Steve?>   
The soft voice intruded into his misery and he winced. Had he been projecting again?   
Yes?> His mind voice didn't sound too stable either.   
You don't have to>   
He smiled ever so slightly. It's my choice, Mid. I made it>   
Midnight sighed softly. He would accept it. There was no other way.

* * *   


IV. Fate

The gray robot stood in the middle of a rough, hostile landscape, face turned upward to the bleary sky. He seemed to merge with the grayness all around him. There was no rain, only cold wind. In the distance, a series of broken ridges rose high overhead with what looked like narrow passes winding through them. A tremor ran through the robot and his optics flared. Rage and anger burned through him like a fire, consuming everything, his chest space aching like on fire. And somehow it was. Rational thought was far away and all he wanted to do was to make those suffer who had done this to him.   
A silent scream echoed through him.   
"Star?"   
The exclamation had come unbidden and Dagger gave a whimper of pain. He doubled over, arms wrapped around his mid-section, groaning.   
"No!"   
But denial would get him nowhere. It had happened.   


Dagger looked at the rather tall organic. He was three heads taller than a human and his slender frame made him appear likely to snap at the slightest breeze. Dark, spotted skin and large black eyes set him even more apart from the other Interfaces, but Dagger didn't go by appearances anyway. His name was Three Morning Stars, a rough translation of a complicated sequence of clicks and whistles. Star was unable to talk in Standard, but a translator had solved this problem. And Dagger didn't need a translator anyway. He understood.   
And he was changing.   
It was a subtle change toward a definite end. He knew what was happening and it frightened and surprised him.   
Interfacing.   
It wasn't happening as suddenly as with Spellbinder and Kayla, or as painfully as Thon Roque and Ray Hawks Anderson. It was like a slow invasion, a feeling of wellness spreading through him, gently touching his soul   
"I think we should get back now," he said and looked around.   
Coming here had been dangerous and he felt unwell all that exposed. Midnight had told him the same and he knew his leader was right, but Star had wanted to come back here for one more time, saying good-bye to his home soil and tribe. The ceremony had been brief and without much negative emotion from the side of his tribe. He had told them he would be going with his 'soul partner', as he called Dagger, and his family had blessed him on his new path.   
Dagger was amazed by his culture. Star was of what he would call a primitive tribe but he had accepted Interfacing in a stride. Unlike Kayla, who had thought of Spellbinder as a demon god who had come to take her to hell, Star saw this as the completion of a journey that his ancestors began. Fate.   
"So soon already?!" a smooth voice asked.   
Dagger whirled around, optics widening as he discovered the enemy.   
"Braintrust!"   
"In person," the dragon purred, bulging optics glowing.   
Dagger materialized his gun from subspace, wishing he could phase Star, but they had yet to acknowledge their link.   
"Surrender the humanoid!" the Seeker leader now demanded.   
"Never!" Dagger hissed. "I won't let you kill him in your experiments!"   
Braintrust chuckled, a low, deep rumble from deep within his throat. "I won't kill him, my dear Dagger. It's just that these flesh creatures happen to perish so quickly....."   
Dagger screamed in anger and fired at the dragon, but every shot glanced off the thickly armored hide. Braintrust's tail caught the angry robot and slammed him aside. For him it was like swatting a fly.   
Star stared at the giant Seeker, whistling softly. It sounded like a question.   
"What do I want?" Braintrust asked as he approached, lips split into an evil smile. "Well, I want you, my friend. We were chosen to be one, don't you know?"   
Star looked into the yellow optics, no sign of fear in his round eyes. "You were not chosen to be my soul partner," he then said calmly.   
"Oh, but I was. No one ever bothered to tell you, I see." Braintrust chuckled evilly.   
"No!" Dagger cried.   
A fiery stream shot out of Braintrust's open mouth and enveloped the Sentinel, who went to his knees. Star winced and his eyes clouded with pain. Then he was scooped up in the large paws of the Seeker.   
Dagger stumbled to his feet. "Release him, Braintrust! He is of no use to you! He already started to Interface with me!"   
Braintrust looked at the humanoid in his claws, then at the gray Sentinel. "True. Well..." He shrugged and closed his paw completely.   
An agonizing shriek passed over Dagger's lips, his knees giving way, his optics flaring. He collapsed, a quivering heap on the ground. Braintrust opened his paw and the lifeless, broken body of Three Morning Stars fell out.   
"You are right, Sentinel." Braintrust smiled down at the shaking figure. "Thank you for telling me."   
He walked off, leaving the Sentinel behind.   
Dagger's optics were clouded with pain, his body shook by seizures. His Interface space was aflame with agony and the icy blackness of death.   
"Star?" he whimpered.   
There was no reaction forthcoming. Blood pooled under the body, his arms and legs lying in unnatural angles, his chest crushed.   
Dagger didn't know how long he had just stared at his future Interface when he heard steps. A female and a male of Star's tribe stepped into view, their faces expressionless. There was no anger or pain or fury or sadness displayed in their eyes. Dagger recognized one as the shaman of the tribe.   
"I couldn't help him," the suffering Sentinel whispered hoarsely. "I'm so sorry...."   
The shaman looked up. "Fate," was all he said.   


Dagger screamed as the memories returned.   
Fate!   
It hadn't been fate! It had been murder! And he could have prevented it!   
"Dagger?"   
He whirled around, his gun coming up and aiming at the chest of the one behind him. "Leave!" he hissed.   
Knight didn't. "I know it hurts...."   
"You don't know nothing!" Dagger yelled, his voice nearly breaking. "You don't know what it means to be Interfaced!"   
The female Sentinel winced a bit.   
"Leave before Skywolf has to patch you up! Now!"   
Knight tilted her head, the smile she felt inside not reaching her lips. She was an assassin. She could kill Dagger, a spy and stealth fighter, before he even came close. His threats were empty, she knew. He would never attack any of them if not severely provoked.   
Now she sighed. "Dagger, please, come back with me. We want to help..."   
"You can't! So beat it!"   
Knight hesitated a bit longer, then nodded and retreated. Dagger's hand holding the gun was shaking badly by now and he fell to his knees when the other Sentinel had disappeared, his mind flailing out to reach another one. Star had not really been connected yet but a first, tenuous bond had been establish. Destroyed forever. And Sentinels like Skywolf and Spellbinder had truly Interfaced! Why? What made them better to have a living Interface than him? Who had judged him unworthy?   
Dagger bent over in pain and whimpered. His mind cried and he knew he was being unfair to his friends. But right now he didn't care. Right now only the agony inside counted. He was alone again.   
Fate?   
Never.

* * *   


V. Consequences

Skywolf sat in his small cubicle that could be called his office in the repair bay, his optics fixed on the wall opposite, his body shaken by tremors he wasn't even aware of experiencing. He finally lowered his gaze to his hands and winced.

Covered in life blood.   
Fluids.   
Energon.   
Coating his hands and arms, as well as the limp body he was repairing. Sticking to him. Accusing proof of raving madness.

Skywolf moaned silently, more tremors shaking him. He couldn't get the picture out of his mind. He had seen his share of damage, his share of mangled bodies, but this time it had been different. He could accept damage occurring in fighting when encountering the renegade slaves, but this had been done purposefully, deliberately... as a punishment.   
"Skywolf?"   
He lifted his head and his optics focused on the familiar form of his friend Thon Roque. Roque was the head of base security, a massive robot of intimidating construction and an enemy no one wanted to face in battle. The Sentinel insignia was etched into his shoulders, standing out brightly against his subdued, greenish-blue body.   
"What happened? How is Fang?" he now asked.   
Skywolf turned his head away. "Okay," he managed.   
Thon Roque frowned and walked over to him. Fang was not under his command. He was a bodyguard, not base security, but Roque was still worrying about a fellow Sentinel.   
"What happened?" he repeated his question.   
Skywolf didn't really have to answer to him. He was neither his leader nor a superior officer. He was just a fellow Sentinel, one of the oldest among those active, and Skywolf's friend. Friendship wasn't easily forged under the masters' rule but they also didn't forbid it.   
"Betol'Mar happened," Skywolf hissed, anger reflecting in his voice.   
Roque's optics widened. Betol'Mar was a known Quintesson master. He was cruel to the slaves assigned to him and he had beaten more than one of them to death in an act of irrational rage. He liked to entertain himself with mindless games of violence, going far beyond the limits the other Quintessons had. Of course, the slaves were used as gladiators to entertain the masters, but deaths rarely happened. The loser was mostly badly injured but his core unit functional. That was what counted. Skywolf had seen many of these tournaments when he had been called as a medic to inspect the masters' favorites. Thon Roque, as head of security, had attended almost each and every major tournament, except for Betol'Mar's.   
Except once.   
It had twisted his fuel pump to witness what had happened. The Quintesson had driven the gladiators to kill themselves in the most utter disgusting ways, even killing the victors if they had not won in a way that pleased the master. He was a sick individual with an even sicker sense of entertainment. His comrades ignored him, keeping away from him. He didn't even bother.   
Betol'Mar had never touched one of the Sentinels because they were rare and special and losing one of them was a crime even by Quintesson standards. Killing an Autobot or Decepticon once in a while, for instance when they were rebelling, was not seen as a major disaster, but Sentinels were different. The Quintessons treasured their unique powers. Skywolf couldn't care less about the merchandise products. In his optics they were things, nothing more. They were produced to be sold and had no life of their own except what their masters gave them. Skywolf's Sentinel programming didn't allow him to think of them as anything else, though he abhorred senselessly wasting resources the way Betol'Mar had done in the past. But his own people were different. His own counted.   
" How bad?" Thon Roque inquired.

The head laced with open cuts.... oozing glowing energon.   
Scales slashed in half .... whole rows missing entirely.   
Feathers cut off or torn out.   
Skin hanging in strips from the lash of the whip.

Skywolf inhaled deeply and told his friend, Roque's face clouding with anger and rage.   
"Bastard! I wish I could have killed him!" the medic whispered, knowing that raising a hand against his master was punishable by death. Well, for a Sentinel it would only be a reprogramming.   
"What did Fang do?" Thon Roque now asked.   
"His job." At the quizzical look, Skywolf explained, "Betol'Mar was on his way to complete a deal with the Grak'kxians about a shipment of slaves of special design. He requested a bodyguard because Grak'kx is rather dangerous territory. And they were attacked, all right. Fang did his duty but the enemy was overwhelming in numbers. They lost the shipment to the raiders and Fang barely managed to get them out alive. The Quint was injured, as was Fang. Impulse was on duty when they were brought in. The Quints told us to take care of their own first. I came in later and was ordered to take care of Fang. I did."   
"And?" Thon Roque prodded when Skywolf fell silent.   
"Betol'Mar woke and was screaming mad about his losses. He blamed it on Fang but somehow quieted down again. It should have alerted me that something was wrong," Skywolf went on, self-reproach in his voice. "Fang was declared functional again and the Quint asked for a few minutes alone with him."   
"And the others let him?!"   
Wolf nodded. "He said he wanted to talk to his bodyguard about what happened, maybe get some information on the raiders, see if Fang saw something he didn't. Primus, Roque, he whipped him nearly to death!" A shudder went through Skywolf. The agitated medic erupted from his position and paced the room. "I found Fang in a storage room after that.... he was totally out of it. He was ready to kill whoever got close to him, Roque! He was insane with pain and guilt! He thought it was all his fault!"   
Thon Roque squelched the rising anger inside of him. "What happened to Betol'Mar?" he asked hoarsely.   
"Nak'gahan interfered. He was killed by his Enforcers! A fate much too good for him!" Skywolf whispered viciously, his hands were clenched into fists.   
The other Sentinel nodded silently. It took a lot to make Skywolf react this way. Normally he was a calm and reasonable person but right now he was driven to extremes. The fate of his patients could get to him and Fang was a friend to both of them. Skywolf was reacting in an almost empathic way. Thon Roque could only imagine what Wolf was going through, had gone through.....   
"What about Fang?" he asked after a while.   
"Bodily he is okay. His mind.... he needs extensive healing time."   
"Which he won't likely get. The slave rebellion is turning nasty. There was heavy fighting in sector twelve."   
Skywolf sighed. "I heard. I think I better get back and see how he is doing....."   
Roque nodded. "And I need to return to my post. Keep me updated on this?"   
"Sure."

*

Skywolf didn't know how to feel. Feeling was nothing he was able to do anyway. He wished he could voice his rage and sense of injustice somehow, but he wasn't a violent person; he couldn't tear down an innocent shelf full of instruments or mutilate a wall to give his rising frustration a vent. He could only stand there, shaking with rage, optics ablaze.   
He had just found out something he had never dared to imagine. Betol'Mar was dead but his heritage lived on: nightmarish memories.   
Something inside of him screamed. The Quintessons had uncovered an ever-growing amount of killings Betol'Mar had either ordered or done by himself, wasting precious merchandise or damaging it beyond repair. And he had nearly scrapped a bodyguard. Repeatedly.....   
Now he was gone.   
Forever.   
But not out of Skywolf's mind and definitely not out of Fang's. That Betol'Mar had abused him before had been his secret, something Fang had been ashamed of because he had thought that his punishment had been due and justified for serving his masters incorrectly. Skywolf wished he could have killed Betol'Mar with his own hands. The bodyguard had healed and he was back on duty but his mind had been severely affected by it all. He was submissive to every master he met to a point that it disgusted Skywolf. Fang was trying to perform above peak performance, regularly driving himself into energon depletion, relentlessly following orders. He was punishing himself even worse than Betol'Mar had done. He blamed himself for everything that had happened.....   
Skywolf hissed softly. Five minutes. Betol'Mar had had only five minutes and he had changed the life of his friend forever. Irrevocably. Five minutes......

......

"Skywolf?"   
The voice intruded into the moment of painful memories and Skywolf blinked, focusing back on the present. He was holding a folder in his hand, opened on one of the pages, a row of data greeting him. It was a personal sheet, one of those files they had created to store their kind's data under. This one was from Fang.....   
"Wolf?"   
The voice again. He looked down and conjured up a smile, though he knew it would be in vain. He couldn't fool his partner with outward appearances. Jill was probably getting a load through the link.   
"Hi, Jill."   
Jill McKennan scowled. "Don't 'Hi, Jill' me. What's wrong? Flashbacks?"   
He winced. Was it that obvious? Most likely. Jill had once been on the receiving end of one of his flashbacks about his past and he was embarrassed by it. Their Interface was only a few years old and he still needed to get used to his emotions sometimes flooding along the link and toward the alien woman connected to him.   
"Kinda," he mumbled and closed the file.   
"Those you don't want to talk about."   
"Hmpf."   
"I see." Jill smiled. "You know you can talk to me about it."   
"Yes, thanks, I know. Just not now.... I can't....."   
It's okay, Wolf. No rush> she sent.   
It was something he had to get used to as well. Jill sat with him as he filed away what he had and worked his way through the next batch. His mind was replaying those age-old scenes back to him and he wished he knew where Fang was, if he was still alive.... He had fled Cybertron with them but he had been on another ship and when the lost crew of desperate Sentinels had finally joined up with the rest, he was gone.   
Wherever you are, my friend, I wish you well.

* * *   


VI. Gods

Spellbinder looked down at the cowering, shaking woman, sighing deeply, totally at a loss as to what to do. He felt her fear as if it was his own and he was slowly learning how to get some kind of shields up. The bond had happened all of a sudden and up until then he hadn't even known about this ability. Not even that it existed at all. He had stumbled over this alien woman deep in the woods of a rather primitive planet. The people living here were tribes people, far away from modern technology, slightly empathic, some telepathic to a degree, all of them in awe of anything new or alien. Spellbinder, satisfying his curiosity as a scientist, had accompanied his equally curious friend Labyrinth to this place. While Lab was observing the natives in his cloaked state, Spellbinder had wandered off to explore the jungle-like forest.   
And had met her.   
Kayla.   
The space inside his chest taken up by the weapon the slaves had feared so much, the weapon the Quintessons had treasured the Sentinels for, had reacted with blazing pain, then warmth and a feeling of completeness, of wholeness. Spellbinder had heard the shriek of fear and confusion from the alien woman, then the whiteness had claimed him. When he had woken, she had been at his side, lying on the soft ground, unconscious, just coming around.   
Kayla was tall with slightly curly, dark hair spilling over her shoulders and down her back. Her dark brown face was framed by horns curling down her cheeks, a second pair curling from her head. The eyes were black with a faint golden glow. Her hands looked more like claws, with stiff talons on each finger.   
Now, after waking up, she cowered before him, scared to death, her hair falling over her face and shoulders. She was clad in some kind of primitive skin robe. A staff lay beside her. She was barefooted.   
"I'm sorry," he said, wishing he knew what to do.   
Something had happened to them, both of them. He needed Skywolf. He needed the medic to examine them!   
"Listen, I ..."   
Kayla whimpered and said something in her own tongue, which Spellbinder didn't understand, but the emotions she broadcast were clear enough. Utter fear. Terror. Dread.   
Spellbinder moaned. Great! He hadn't wanted that! Whatever it was!

*

Skywolf looked at the slightly anxious Sentinel, then at the trembling humanoid. Kayla was clearly in shock – and so was Spellbinder. His young friend was a former bodyguard, the last of them to get activated before the rebellion, and he had readily left his old past behind to turn to science, trying to satisfy his need for knowledge.   
"What happened?" Thon Roque rumbled.   
"I wish I knew. All I can tell you is that those two are connected, the connection starting and ending in his Storage Control Unit. He is privy to her emotions and thoughts, learning about her life and memories even! Roque, it's like a telepathic link!" Skywolf shook his head in disbelief, totally at a loss.   
"But how?!" the Sentinel leader demanded. "SC was for ..." He stumbled.   
"Killing others," Skywolf finished softly. "I know. It is a weapon, but right now it is .... an Interface unit. They joined."   
"Can she receive his emotions as well? Is the connection two ways?"   
"Probably. But she is much too frightened by us. Her people are primitive in our eyes." The medic shrugged slightly. "Their way of living is far from what we call civilized."   
Roque looked at the strange pair and sighed. "What now?"   
"I need to run more tests. I also want to try and find out how this works." Skywolf tilted his head. "I think if she quiets down we can start on exploring what she feels. I tried to examine her, but it resulted in a massive attack of terror and Spellbinder nearly freaked. He got a full broadside of it."   
"Okay, go for it. I want to know if this is some accident that happened only to Spellbinder or if this can happen to each and everyone of us," the Sentinel leader ordered.   
The medic nodded. "I'm afraid I can give you only some answers, Roque."   
"Just do what you can."   


Kayla looked at the demon gods with deeply routed fear and utter terror. They had come to get her. The outcast. The exiled.... The Netherworld was demanding her sacrifice for her deeds.....   
She prayed to her guardian that he may have mercy on her, promising she would try and repay for her sins as a Healer, but she received no answer.   
Nakayja! she called out, desperation hitting her. Protector of the Outcast, guardian of the Healers!   
Alien emotions swamped over her, those of slight fear, confusion and the wish to help. She was assaulted by images she didn't understand, of great battles and death, metal beings and a metal world. The home of the demon gods. The Netherworld.   
She cried in fear.   
"Kayla?"   
She cowered even more in front of the demon god who had taken her to this place and whimpered another prayer.   
She should not have crossed the line set by her tribe. A female as a Healer had been blow into the faces of the males already, but when her abilities had grown, she had been declared a Sorceress and cast from the protection of the tribe. She had continued to practice Healing and casting protective spells, many women of her old tribe coming to ask her counsel. And then one had miscarried.   
Kayla sobbed in memory, unaware that something .... no, someone was with her, seeing her memories as clearly as if he had been with her at the time. The men had punished her, taken everything from her, pride, possessions, everything..... They had burned her hut, had destroyed and plundered, violated her sacred ground. They had not dared to touch her, but they had nearly killed her nevertheless with their weapons. Her abilities had not been enough to save her from the pain. Kayla had been left bruised and bloodied, crawling into the ruins of her hut and wishing for death.   
But she had not died.   
She had survived, her body scarred in those places where her shifting abilities had not been enough.   
She had moved on then, wandering aimlessly around, living from what she could find, until she had met her fate. The demon.   
She moaned as the image of him was conjured up in her mind. Dark colors, purple and black, light silver here or there. Burning red eyes, glowing from inside. She had felt the cold skin of the demon god when he had lifted her. He was a giant.   
Now she would suffer for her deed and die.   


Spellbinder rocked back, optics ablaze with emotions, a moan passing over his lips. Skywolf flinched in surprise and immediately turned to his friend.   
"What's wrong?"   
"I ...oh, no, Wolf, she thinks we want to kill her! She thinks we are demons sent to punish her for what she did." He turned to look at the shaking female on the other examination table.   
In his mind he saw what had happened to her, felt her pain and mortification, her shame at failing. She was an outcast, unable to return to her kind, hated by them, as well as feared. Without seeing he knew her body was covered by scars. And he knew about her powers as a limited metamorph, able to dislocate part of her body somewhere else, though only briefly. This had not been enough when she had been attacked. Spellbinder moaned silently.

Knives biting into her skin.   
Blood flowing out of deep gashes, mixing with the earth she lay on.   
Wooden clubs breaking ribs, shattering a wrist.

The Sentinel cried out, pressing his hands to his temples, willing it to stop.

Pain!   
Everywhere.   
She crawled back to her destroyed hut, tears mixing with the blood from a cut on her forehead.   
The night enveloped her like a blanket and hid her from prying eyes as she curled up, summoning her Healing powers. She felt broken bone mend, agony spreading through her in the process.   
Her whimper turned into an almost animalistic wail, piercing through the blackness.

"Can you tell her what we are, Spell? Can you calm her?" Skywolf asked, penetrating the fog of strange memories.   
He fixed his optics on the black and silver medic, pulling out of the swamp trying to drag him in. "I don't know!" Spellbinder whispered hoarsely.   
"You have a connection. You can do it! Just soothe her. Tell her we are not some gods of her people."   
Spellbinder reached out, not knowing what exactly to do or how to do it. He was afraid of the pain he might feel again, the horror of Kayla's past.... He shied away of opening what he had to open: his mind. Kayla's head came up and she gave a keening cry that hit him like a whip-lash – and he simply connected. Spellbinder was confronted by her shrieking terror and he slid off the table, almost collapsing. Kayla wailed and curled into a ball, then started to sob.   
"No, please!" Spellbinder whispered, staggering over to her. I don't want to harm you!>   
He didn't know how he had done it. It just .... happened.   
I care....>   
A torrent of emotions, all from his side, followed, accompanied by images she would most likely not understand, but he didn't know how to stop it all.   
Kayla's eyes, half hidden by her curly hair, widened and she stared. She whimpered something and he reached out, gently lifting her from the examination table.   
I will never hurt you. I'm not a god, not a demon.... just Spellbinder>   
Sorcerer>   
The weak, shaky response in his mind was as startling as it was soothing. Her voice was soft, almost musical, quizzical and still filled with fear.   
No, not a sorcerer. Just myself>   
Nakayja?>   
He saw a picture of her guardian god and smiled slightly. No. No god>   
What are ... you?>   
He tried to give her an impression of what he was, where he came from, but he felt her confusion and renewed fear. She was overwhelmed by it all and his dark looks scared her to no end.   
Your friend. No god, no demon. I look different, my size is not yours, I'm frightening to your eyes...but I will not hurt you, Kayla>   
She shivered but didn't withdraw her mind, the emotions he felt coming in calmer and more controlled. She was trying to get her composure back. She sent him questions, curiosity battling fear.   
We will answer all your questions in time> Spellbinder whispered. Trust me.... please?>   
Her golden-black eyes brimmed with tears, but her hand reached out and she carefully touched his metal skin, running claws along the strange texture.   
Cold>   
Metal> he answered, smiling at her.   
Suddenly Skywolf appeared and she winced away, trying to bury herself in his protective hold. "It's okay," he calmed her. "He is a friend."   
Spellbinder didn't know is she only understood his mind-speech but she did quiet down.   
"What happened?" the medic asked.   
"We ... talked."   
"Mind link?"   
Spellbinder nodded.   
"Intriguing.... I think the two of you should get some private time now. Give her an idea where she is and what we are, then come back here. I want to know what is happening to us."   
"Us?" he echoed.   
Skywolf nodded. "I think this is no unique event. It's connected to the SC units and we all have them." His voice held an ominous tone.   
"Oh." Spellbinder looked at the woman he was now linked to. "But ... how? Why her?"   
"I don't know. We met many organics in the last centuries, empaths, telepaths, mundanes..... it has to be something special," Skywolf mused out loud.   
Spellbinder met Kayla's wide, inquiring eyes. Was this their future? A warm feeling spread through him again. If it was, he wouldn't object to it.

* * *   


VII. Seeking

They were alone. A rare moment.   
Phoenix sat with her legs folded beneath her, the three tails always trailing her lying limp at her sides. They were a considerable weapon since they consisted of sharp scales loosely attached to each other, which she could fling at an attacker. She was watching Tornado as he gazed at nothing in specific, looking a bit lost and alone. He suddenly looked up, as if feeling her optics on him, and gave her a smile. She thought it was a beautiful sight, wishing he'd smile more often. But the moment he left this room, their hide-out, he would change. Back into the apparently emotionless science officer Braintrust cherished for his skills. Everything glanced off him and it had to. The pain, the death, the cries and the silence afterwards. Phoenix could only guess what was happening in the labs because he never talked about it, but she had a pretty good idea.   
Always death.   
"What?" he now asked softly.   
She shrugged. "Nothing. You seem so ... thoughtful."   
He looked as if she had caught him in a forbidden act and turned his head away. Phoenix waited. After a while he asked,   
"Do you like your life?"   
Phoenix blinked. This was the last question she had expected, especially from him! It also showed her how much he trusted her, how close they had come. And it sent a warm feeling through her.   
"It has changed," she now said softly. "I'm not sure whether to the better or not. Sometimes...."   
He looked at her, his silver eyes begging her continue.   
"Sometimes I wish we had not followed him," she said, aware that if he had only played her and would spill this to Braintrust, she'd most likely be dead.   
"Me too," he now whispered. "Oh, Nyx, why?"   
She rose and walked over to him, kneeling down beside the dark blue robot, touching his arm. "Because at the time it was our only choice. And even if we'd now turned our backs on him, do you think Braintrust would let us live? Would Thon Roque accept us back? We are no longer Sentinels. We are Seekers and the enemy. We will always fight Sentinels......"   
He nodded. "One step too far got us here," he said almost inaudibly.   
Phoenix hand closed around his. "Ul'Amankh."   


Tornado watched his leader as Braintrust studied the readings they had taken in their last cloaked run over the planet's major population centers, then compared them to what the second group had brought back from the outback. A grin spread over the giant dragon's thin lips and he rumbled.   
"Good," Braintrust now purred and looked at the dark blue robot. "Ready the ship, Tornado, we are going on a little trip."   
"What about Thon Roque? He will ask questions...."   
"Let me deal with that problem. He can't stop us."   
Tornado nodded and left the room. Outside he walked into Phoenix. The red and golden female Seeker gave him a questioning look.   
"We're leaving for a trip," Tornado said briefly. " Ul'Amankh."   
Phoenix sighed and shook her head. "He's still experimenting with this? I thought he had given up."   
He smiled humorlessly. "He never gives up, Nyx. You know that."   
Phoenix nodded, knowing all too well. Ever since three of the other Sentinels around Thon Roque had joined with humanoid beings, expanding their abilities or developing new ones, Braintrust was set on doing the same. He had tried it the way all joinings had happened: meeting organics. But it had not helped. Something inside their system seemed to choose who was the right one. Braintrust was growing more and more irritated every day and pouring all his research into the phenomenon Skywolf had dubbed 'Interfacing'.   
"Do you think it will work?" she asked softly.   
Tornado shrugged. "From the scientific point of view, yes, it should work. I reviewed everything and there is no flaw in the calculations. It's brilliant, I have to confess."   
That was another thing about their leader. Braintrust had strokes of utter brilliance and his mind could work faster than any computer sometimes, but then he once more turned into a raving psycho, especially when reminded that the Interfaced Sentinels were superior in some things to him. He couldn't stand it. But Tornado had sworn loyalty to him and he would stand by his oath.   
"Ul'Amankh," Phoenix muttered. "What makes him believe he can find a suitable Interface there?"   
"I don't know." Tornado's face was suddenly shadowed and Phoenix touched his arm. He smiled at her. "We'll see," he just said.   
Tornado wasn't sure about his leader's state of mind ever since the former slaves had rebelled and thrown the Sentinels off Cybertron, killing many in the process. Braintrust had irrational attacks, fits and temper flares that threatened to kill one of his troops if he or she were unlucky enough to be around. Tornado had been able to soothe his leader most of the times. He had nearly been killed himself when Braintrust had had such an attack, but somehow the Seeker leader had stopped short of the fatal blow.   
Thon Roque was growing more impatient with him every day, threatening to expel Braintrust and his followers from the group of survivors and Tornado knew that if the former security commander got wind of what was going on, he'd be lucky to be only expelled......   


They had gone through with it, flying to the small planet.   
Ul'Amankh was a small planet, two moons orbiting a desert world that had only two foresty regions and was dominated either by dry sand areas or mountain ranges. The people on the planet were not highly developed in the technological sense of the word, some still living in small, primitive tribes, other already clustered in cities. And somewhere on this planet had been someone Braintrust had chosen to Interface with, someone with enhanced psi-capabilites. It had been and still was Braintrust's prime theory that psi was necessary to Interface. Kayla, the primitive female Interfaced with Spellbinder was slightly empathic; Jill, Skywolf's partner and the latest addition, had highly developed brain functions, though not expressed in any powers of the mind; Tiriga, Claw's water-breather, was able to broadcast her thoughts into other minds, though unable to read minds. It was a common basis.   
Now, after so many years of searching Tornado wondered if it really was the deciding factor, though. He would never dare to say it. It would get him killed.   
"Ul'Amankh," he echoed Phoenix, her golden optics shadowed.   
It had been the decisive factor for many things, mainly for the split.   
Thon Roque had followed them and had managed to thwart Braintrust's plan. It had been a vicious fight, nearly costing some of them their lives.   
Tornado had nearly lost Phoenix in the process..... and it had brought them together.   


The blast threw her forward and into the tall trees of the forest. Phoenix screamed and forced herself to transform, even though it ripped more circuits and muscle cables. She gasped in pain as her wings were torn and her tail feathers ripped off. Her back skin broke in several places and the pain was unbearable now. She tried to get up, tried to defend herself against the Sentinels, but her consciousness was fading. She clung to her remaining awareness. White noise filled her audio receptors and her optics registered nothing but blurred outlines.

Tornado's optics widened in shock as he saw the female Sentinel break down. He raced over to her, evading enemy fire, and transformed. He gently touched Phoenix' shoulder and it evicted a moan. The female looked terrible, her back badly bruised, her wings torn and shattered. Her optics flickered.   
"Phoenix?" he asked, voice shaking.   
"Flee," she whispered, her voice breaking.   
"Not without you."   
"Fool," was the faint scolding.   
"Don't move!" another voice ordered.   
He looked up and into the angry optics of Spellbinder. Tornado lifted his hands, unconsciously placing himself between Phoenix and the other Sentinel.   
"Please, no..." he said. "I surrender."   


All had surrendered and Thon Roque – no killer and executioner -- had banished not only Braintrust but also every single other Sentinel who had decided he or she would have to follow Braintrust. Tornado had gone with him, mainly because he was afraid of what might happen if he stayed with the others. He didn't want to Interface. Phoenix had come along, mainly because he had gone.   
Since then they were no longer Sentinels.   
They were Seekers.   
Outcasts and enemies.   
The two Seekers sat silently together, sharing private moments, hiding from reality as long as possible.

* * *   


-- PRESENT --

I. The Question

"Would you please stop it?"   
Nicholas, pacing up and down in the office room, stopped and looked at the dark blue robot with slight confusion. "What?"   
"Stop pacing, Nick! It gives me chip flashes!" Tornado complained. "What is wrong with you anyway?"   
"Nothing," was the mumbled reply.   
"Ah." The Seeker leader looked at the smaller human. "So this 'nothing' makes you come here, something you rarely do, spend hours just staring or pacing." He bent forward a bit, fixing Nicholas with a silver stare. "I know there are currently a dozen projects running in med bay and the tech room you would love to get your hands on. So why are you here?"   
Nicholas opened his mouth to object or protest, but then closed it again. He started to pace until his Interface partner gave him a gentle kick through their link. He received a glare for that.   
"Nicholas....what's wrong?" Tornado asked again.   
"Nothing! Nothing is wrong!" Nicholas said forcefully. "I already told you!"   
"Has it something to do with Shanygn?"   
The dark-haired engineer flinched and Tornado nodded. Okay, that was a beginning. He hadn't noticed any problems between the two, but maybe something had developed nevertheless.   
"Did the two of you have a fight?"   
"No. It's not that."   
"What is it then?"   
Nicholas started pacing, then stopped abruptly and ran a nervous hand through his hair. "You wouldn't understand."   
Tornado sat down on the desk and smiled. "Try me."   
Nicholas sighed, shaking his head. "It's a human thing. I'm not even sure Shanygn would understand me."   
The Seeker waited patiently, still smiling. He received emotions like confusion, insecurity and fear from his partner, but all subdued and not connected to a really dangerous situation. It was all emotional and he wondered what was going on inside Nicholas.   
Cavanaugh chewed on his lower lip, then he finally said, "Shan and I have been together for a long time."   
"I know."   
"She's not like any other woman I ever met and I met a few in my life before I Interfaced." He shrugged. "I mean, it wasn't love at first sight and maybe not even at the second, but .... but ...."   
"Something developed," Tornado finished helpfully.   
Nicholas grinned a bit. "Yeah. Something developed."   
"And?"   
He groaned. "I want to ask her ..... well ... it's stupid!" He threw his hands into the air. "She wouldn't understand; she isn't a human! She doesn't know human traditions."   
Tornado sighed. "Nick, even I don't understand and I'm linked to you. What is wrong? What do you want to ask her?"   
"I want to ask her to marry me!" Nicholas blurted, then looked embarrassed.   
Tornado grinned, a wide grin he couldn't stop.   
"I told you it was stupid," his partner muttered, hunching his shoulders, hands stuffed in his pockets.   
"No, it isn't!"   
"She'll say no."   
Tornado tilted his head. "How do you know?"   
"I mean ... even if she does know what a marriage really is ... I mean, she was at Daniel's wedding and she knows what it is, but does she know what it means and ..... okay, she knows the Witwickys quite well, but it's still ..... why should she say yes? It's the 'Till death do us part' thing! We are Interfaced! We won't die in the next years!" Nicholas was rambling and had started to pace again. "This might end with a divorce and ..."   
"Nicholas, stop it," Tornado interrupted him.   
"Huh?" Nicholas blinked.   
"You are assuming you know all the answers but you haven't even asked the question yet. Ask Shanygn. It's simple."   
"What do you know about it," Nicholas mumbled.   
The robot chuckled. "Just because my kind doesn't marry like yours doesn't mean I haven't a clue."   
Nicholas raised an eyebrow. Tornado simply grinned at him. Nicholas always marveled at how Tornado had grown more open with him, how he had developed an accessible persona. Of course, it wasn't a new characteristic, it was simply the old Tornado coming out of hiding from behind a shield erected in the time of service under Braintrust.   
"Ask," Tornado now repeated.   
Cavanaugh groaned.   
Nick.... do it>   
But ... what if she says no?> he asked desperately.   
Then you know. And you will get to know the reasons. Nicholas, you waited such a long time until you approached her about more than just friendship, you gave her the time she needed to trust you and now you have to give her the freedom to tell you what she thinks about it>   
Nicholas slowly walked toward the office door. I'll think about it>   
Just don't take too long>

*

Nicholas was going through what he wanted to ask Shanygn when she came home, talking to himself in a low voice, reciting the words. He didn't hear Shanygn enter until she said,   
"Nick?"   
Nicholas gave a yelp of surprise and stared at her with wide eyes. "Shanygn!"   
"In person, yes," she replied with slight amusement and a considerably larger amount of confusion. "You wanted to talk to me?"   
He started to fidget. "Ahh ...well...."   
Shanygn started to worry. Nicholas had asked when she would be home and he had sounded slightly caught-up in something, maybe even worried. The call alone had been strange enough. He never asked when she'd be home! And now he looked like he was about to go to his own execution and as nervous as she had never seen him before.   
"Nick?"   
He blinked at her. "Shan, it's ... I wanted to ask you something..... uh...."   
"Yes?" she asked when he broke off.   
"You see, it's a human thing and I'm not sure you understand ...."   
"Try me."   
Nicholas inhaled deeply, then opened his mouth only to shut it again. Desperation rose inside him, quite visible in his eyes.   
"I don't want you to misunderstand this...."   
"I don't even know what you want to ask me, so why don't you just tell me?" Shanygn asked gently.   
"If you feel offended by it..."   
"Nicholas."   
"I mean, I know you know what it means, but I .... you see, it's a cultural thing and even though I've been among aliens long enough .... I mean...." he stumbled on.   
"Nick......"   
"You can say no!" he blurted. "I won't be offended and I don't want to offend you ....   
"Nick!"   
"What?"   
"What do you want to ask me?" Shanygn asked firmly.   
He looked at her, then reached into this pocket and got out a small box. It was black and very small, she noticed. He fumbled with it, then popped it open and took out what was inside.   
"Shanygn ...." He cleared his throat. "I .... Would you .... Do you want to marry me?"   
Shanygn was speechless. She had expected all kinds of things but not that. She stared at the slightly frightened and deeply embarrassed looking man standing opposite, holding a delicate ring between thumb and forefinger. She tried to find her voice again.   
"Nick, I ...."   
His face changed dramatically from afraid to crestfallen and then immediately to a valiant smile. "It's .....okay," he said.   
"Yes, I do."   
"I mean .... we are partners already and it's just something more offi... What?!"   
Shanygn closed the distance between them and snaked her arms around his neck. "I said yes, Nick," she whispered.   
Nicholas stared at her, unable to believe what he was hearing. "Yes?" he finally wheezed.   
She responded by kissing him passionately. "Yes, silly," she breathed when they parted.   
Nicholas hugged her tightly, burying his face in her neck. He felt like embracing the world now. Happiness coursed through him like liquid fire and he shivered once. Then he looked into those dark blue eyes of his soon-to-be-wife.   
"I love you," he said.   
Shanygn smiled and kissed him lightly. "I love you too."

* * *   


II. Demons

A scraping noise.   
She looked around, but saw nothing. Everything was empty.   
"Hello?" she called.   
"Hello," a dark voice answered and she whirled around.   
Her mouth opened to scream as she saw the towering robot, but she never came that far. Something hit her and she collapsed.   
The robot bent down and picked her up effortlessly.   


Pain!   
She was violently forced out of her body, feeling the pain and the emotional upheaval.   
More pain!   
No, I don't want to die!   
Nerve fibers were ripped apart, neurons died, her mind was viciously cut and violated.   
No!   
She felt her identity slip, felt it dissuade into nothingness.   
Her heart beat slower and slower, finally stopping. She felt cells in her body scream for oxygen, blood, food. She felt muscles grow lax, dying. She felt all organs stop, her lungs collapsing. Her mind battled against the blackness of oxygen deprivation, finally falling apart, dying as well. Everything a dying person never felt assaulted her.   
She screamed, not from pain but from emotional agony as her mind was ripped out of her dead body and flung into a new pool of pain. Everything broke.   
No! I'm Roma Chi'lachn! I'm Katarkian! I'm Roma Chi'lachn.....I'm ... I'm Roma.....   
Someone else claimed her, made her part of himself. She forced herself to keep fighting, though her mind was tired, her body weak.   
She gave a cry of desperation.

Rodimus was alerted to the change in Silhouette by a soft moan coming from her, an almost inaudible noise at the edge of perception. She was leaning against the wall, next to a shelf of files. They had come down to the library to search for some background information he needed. He had met Silhouette on the way and since she had nothing to do she had accompanied him. They had less and less time together as it was, mainly because Silhouette was busy with Counterstrike. Rodimus had somehow felt jealous at first, mainly because she spent more and more time with Cyclonus and the rest of the Counterstrike team and less with him. But then there was the fact that he, as head of doorway research, was also mostly holed up in the doorway chamber or his office, trying to get his work done as well.   
"Sil?" he asked, touching her.   
She looked at him and he noticed how bright her optics were. Unnaturally bright....   
"It's okay," she said, rubbing her forehead.   
"What happened?"   
She shook her head and pushed herself away from the wall. "Nothing. Little system error. It's fine now."   
"Maybe you should have First Aid check it....."   
Her optics flared for a second. "I said I'm fine," she told him in a near-hiss.   
Rodimus blinked. Silhouette walked off into the depth of the library and he remained behind, stunned. This uncomfortably reminded him of something that had happened decades ago. Silhouette had suffered from nightmares concerning the transfer of her once humanoid mind into a robot body. She remembered little of her human past, though she had a lot of traits unlike any Cybertronian Rodimus had ever met. Sil didn't know who she had been, though she remembered how Braintrust had kidnapped and finally killed her in one of his mad experiments. Most of her past remained in shadows, though.   
And now this.   
Was it his imagination that the pain he had seen was so much like the one he had faced in her optics when she had had those nightmares? The nightmares had settled and she had never suffered from them again.....   
Rodimus decided to have a closer optic on her the next few days.

*

Over the next few days nothing much happened. Silhouette was on two missions with Cyclonus and the Decepticon never mentioned anything amiss. Maybe it had been a system malfunction. Rodimus was starting to relax, looking forward to a few days off with his partner when he finally got his work load done. He was nearly done with an especially infuriatingly big file when someone knocked.   
"Yes?"   
The door slid open and First Aid stepped in. It was such an unusual visit that Rodimus immediately felt alarms going off inside him. First Aid almost never left med bay, at least without a really good reason, so this had to be serious....   
"First Aid? What can I do for you?"   
"Rodimus, it's about Silhouette."   
The alarm bells roared in his head. "What happened?" he asked, feeling his energon pump clench in fear.   
"I fear the memory block has broken. Her past is coming back....."

*

"But she remembered her past!" Rodimus protested, pacing up and down in the med bay office cubicle.   
First Aid watched him calmly. "I know. When she and Optimus joined to resolve their nightmares I thought the same, but she has walled all of her humanoid past off, Rodimus. She never remembered her name or what she had been."   
"And now she does."   
The medic nodded.   
"What can I do?" Rodimus asked.   
First Aid sighed. "Bear with her. She needs to face this, once and for all. She can't wall it off again. Next time it will come back stronger and then she might not be able to take it.   
Rodimus looked shocked, then nodded.

*

Rodimus watched his partner recharge. He had accompanied her to her quarters and he had told her he wouldn't leave until she was properly recharging. After that, he hadn't been able to leave. Sil had evaded every question concerning how she was, giving him a few general answers.   
The monitor lit up, telling him she was rousing out of recharge. Too soon! She had been in rest mode for about one Standard hour. Sil's hands flailed out, her mouth opening to scream, but it was only a hoarse cry. He caught the hands and held her down, but this evoked an even worse reaction. Her optics flared a bright blue and then she transformed. From one second to the next Rodimus was facing several tons of angry claws, teeth and talons. Silhouette lashed out once more and he was just quick enough to get out of the way. She roared, clearly not aware what she was doing.   
The female Dinobot staggered back, her optics wide and then gave a moan of denial, transforming and falling to her knees with a sob.   
"No!" she breathed.   
Rodimus approached her carefully. "Sil?"   
She looked up. "I'm sorry," she whispered, voice rough.   
"Nothing happened," he said gently as he knelt down beside her. "Nightmare?"   
She bit her lip.   
"Want to talk about it?" he asked, hoping it had better results than the last few times he had offered this.   
"I thought I had fought them," she whispered. "I thought I had conquered them.... now part of them are back."   
"Part of what?"   
Her troubled, anguished optics met his compassionate ones. "My past. My humanoid past....and ... and .... Braintrust."   
Rodimus touched her arm, encouraging her to continue talking.   
"I never had a complete set of memories," she whispered. I know of my origin and I know I was killed...... but I never truly remembered it. Okay, I had nightmares and I won over them, but they never concerned ..... my actual death. And my life. They concerned the time afterwards, when I was inside Optimus, keeping him alive." Her unsheathed claws bit into her palms. "I just died again," she whispered. "In all the gruesome details."   
Sil started to tremble and Rodimus did the only thing he could think of: he took her into his arms. He could only imagine what it was like. He had had his own nightmares and his own pain, and he knew someone else could never really share them. Sil was the same. Her mind had been raped, cut apart, violated, torn and reassembled, and now it all came back.   
"I never knew who I had been before my rebirth," she whispered. "Now I do. I know my name, my life, everything is back." She shook her head in desperation. "It's flooding me; I can't handle it!" She dimmed her optics, trembling even more.   
"You can handle it," Rodimus said forcefully. "You did it before and you can do it now! It's your life and you have lived it; now you have a new life and both of them are colliding, but they don't have to destroy each other in the process!"   
Sil tried to pull away from him but he didn't let her. She was silent for a long time, but Rodimus saw how she battled everything surfacing inside of her. After some time she seemed to relax, her face a tired mask of determination.   
"You should get some more rest," Rodimus said softly.   
"I can't sleep," she whispered.   
"You don't have to sleep, just rest. I'll be here with you, Sil."   
She looked at him and smiled slightly. Rodimus already saw returning confidence in her optics and he knew she was a strong person and could make it. If she weren't that strong-willed she wouldn't have survived as a robot for all that time when she had been born humanoid. He couldn't imagine the pressure upon a human mind inside an artificial body, but he had had his conversations with Spike and he knew what the former human had gone through.   
"Thanks," she whispered and leaned against him.   
Rodimus smiled and lightly rubbed her back. They simply sat there, Rodimus holding on to his partner, Silhouette resting in a half-sleep.

* * *   


III. Absolution

It was a dreary and rainy day, the sky dominated by heavy clouds, a slow drizzle falling onto the already wet ground. Because of the weather the cemetery was almost empty. A lonely figure walked to one of the countless graves, stopping in front of the white-washed stone, eyes fixed on the writing.   
"Hi, Meg," Jeff Winters said slowly as he placed a single flower on the stone.   
There was no answer in return, only the soft sound of rain falling. He hadn't expected one anyway.   
"I know it's been a long time... and that I said I wouldn't return, but things have arisen.... changed....." He sighed deeply, shoving his hands into his pockets, then removing them again.   
It had been a very long time since he had been here last, mainly because relations between Earth and Cybertron had dwindled and Cybertronian presence anywhere was no longer wanted. Jeff, as an Interface partner to a Sentinel, had been affected as well. He was called a 'collaborator', his life in danger wherever he went. He had come to his wife's grave all that time ago to say good-bye and now he was back.   
"I met someone, Meg," he told the silent grave. "She is special ... in many ways. I thought I'd never be able to love anyone except you but now.... I'm confused. Her name is Cathy Lee. She is Interfaced as well and like for me it changed a lot for her as well." He smiled slightly. "She is a bit like me, but then .... not at all."   
Rain drummed down on him and he felt Wild Card's mind touch his briefly. The Sentinel was hiding in the near-by forest.   
"I love her, but I will also always love you," Jeff said silently.   
Silence followed, Jeff wishing he could have had a few last moments with his wife before she had died, but it had been denied to him. She had died of cancer, surrounded by he family except for her husband. Ex-husband, he reminded himself, though they had not parted in anger. His job as a pilot in the Navy had taken up so much time in his past that his family had suffered from this. After the accident that had scarred him for life he had wanted to devote more time to the people he loved, his wife and children. She had still loved him and he had wanted nothing more than to try and make it all work again.   
Then he had Interfaced.   
And died.   
Officially he had been declared dead.   
Jeff inhaled deeply and turned away from the grave – almost colliding with someone. He stumbled back, an automatic apology coming over his lips, then he stopped.   
"Sarah!"   
The name had passed his lips just as automatically.   
The woman standing in front of him was in her late forties, early fifties maybe, her hair slightly graying, her face still youthful. Because of the face he had recognized her – and because of the collection of pictures he kept in an album in his quarters. Stolen pictures of a past he had not been able to share.   
Sarah stared at him, her jaw dropping, eyes wide, hands starting to tremble. Jeff reigned in his wildly surging emotions.   
"I'm sorry," he managed. "I confused you with someone else."   
He pushed past her.   
"Dad?"   
Jeff stopped like hit by lightning, his back turned to his daughter, his mind awhirl. He couldn't think clearly. Everything was a mess. He felt Wild Card's presence again, but he couldn't really answer his friend now.   
"Dad, it's you, right?" Sarah asked hesitantly. "But that's impossible!"   
"You are mixing me up with someone else," he muttered, blindly trying to reach for some control. He had to get out of here!   
"No, I'm not," Sarah whispered.   
He turned, fighting down the urge to go and take his daughter into his arms. He had seen her last when she had been ten. She had been their youngest daughter, a quiet and serious child. While he couldn't be with his family in person he had always kept track of them through various means while he was on Cybertron and there was no doubt who Sarah really was.   
"It is you. But they said you died.... And you didn't change!" she exclaimed, hesitantly stepping closer.   
Jeff shook his head. "No, don't." He willed his body to step away from her.   
"Dad...."   
"I'm not who you think I am!"   
"You are Jefferson Winters, my father," Sarah said calmly, her voice tightly controlled. "Do you deny me?"   
He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. "I'm dead. I don't exist anymore."   
"You do now and I want to know why. Please....? Mom said you died of an accident, that your body was never recovered and that ..." She choked a bit. "...that your grave would always be empty. She visited it nevertheless."   
Emotional pain shot through him and Jeff hunched his shoulders. Wild Card was a soothing presence in his mind, asking if he wanted to come back, if he should pick him up. Jeff summoned a shield and told him it was okay.   
"As you are visiting hers," Sarah added. "What happened to you, Dad?"   
"A lot. Nothing you would understand," he whispered.   
She touched his arm and he flinched, caught unawares. How had she been able to approach him without him seeing it?   
"Try me....."   


The small coffee shop was close to the cemetery but still far enough away from the place of rest that Jeff wasn't reminded of it every now and then. He turned the mug of coffee in his hands, staring at the table.   
"You really didn't change all that much from the man I remember from my childhood," Sarah said now, smiling as she stirred her tea.   
Jeff shrugged uncomfortably, glad they were almost alone in the coffee shop. They had claimed a table away from the counter and no one could listen in. The waiter had left them alone after getting them their orders.   
"What happened, Dad? Why did you disappear? Why did you never contact any of us? Why ....?"   
"Why am I still alive?" he finished the question she had apparently not dared to ask.   
Sarah nodded.   
"Believe me, it wasn't voluntary, Sarah. If I had had the choice at the time, I would have chosen my life and my family. But you don't have a choice in the matter."   
"What matter? What happened?"   
He inhaled deeply.

The robot leveled his gun at him, staring. Jeff tensed, his mind racing with thought. He knew he couldn't outrun a gun with a motor-bike.   
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.   
The robot let his gun arm fall to his side. "Sorry," he stammered. "I ... I was not sure ...."   
Jeff hesitated, noting the absolute confusion and the slightly devastating condition the robot was in. He was trembling. Jeff had worked with the Autobots before, mainly the Aerialbots, and he knew them, accepted them as just another kind of life form. He took off his helmet and placed it on the bike.   
"You aren't an Autobot, right? That's not their insignia." He pointed at the sign visible on the shoulder.   
"No. I ...I'm not an Autobot."   
The robot was tall, but not out of the ordinary for a Cybertronian. His general coloring was a golden-brown and dark green. His optics were covered by a visor shield, the rest of the face visible. He had to be an aerial Transformer, the wings giving Jeff a first clue.   
"Then who the heck are you then?" Jeff asked.   
"My name is ... Wild Card....I ...." the robot choked.   
"Are you all right?" Jeff asked in concern. This guy also wasn't a Decepticon and something seemed to be wrong with him. His expression was one of pain all of a sudden.   
"No," he moaned all of a sudden. "It's true!"   
"Hey!" Now Jeff was getting worried. "You aren't all right. I'll get some help."   
"No .... Jeff..... I'm fine."   
Jeff stared at him, his mind buzzing a warning. He knew his name!   
"No!" Wild Card moaned and fell to his knees. "It can't be happening."   
Winters was equally confused. "You know my name...." he began, then gasped and grabbed his head. "What ... are .. you .... doing?" he whispered.   
His mind was on fire. A burning sensation ate away every rational thought, expanded his mind until he thought his head would blow from the pressure, and he was flooded with images he couldn't grasp a hold of.   
Wild Card's green visor flashed brightly. "I'm so sorry, Jeff," he said softly.   
And then the world went white.   


Sarah had almost stopped breathing and her gray eyes were wide, resting on her father's face.   
"Oh ..... god...... You ...."   
"Interfaced," Jeff told her softly and nodded.   
She closed her eyes and when she opened them again, Jeff saw understanding there. He had feared she might be one of those influenced by the propaganda, but it didn't seem to be true.   
"You could have explained it to us." There was no accusation in her voice, just the fact.   
"Yes, but it would have made it even more difficult, Sarah. At the time Wild Card was a Seeker, on the run from his own people, deeply confused and vulnerable. And so was I. It was new for both of us and we had to come to terms with it ourselves. We did after a while and then I knew it was too late. I'm sorry." He looked at the table again.   
Sarah touched his hand and when he looked up he caught her smile. "It's okay. I just wish you wouldn't have waited so long to get discovered."   
He smiled wryly. "Tell me about you," he then begged. "I .... I did keep track of the family for a while, but it grows increasingly more difficult. How are Ben and Robert? How have you been doing?"   
Sarah smiled as well.   
The afternoon was filled by stories and flew by too quickly. Jeff found himself talking about his past, his adventures, his life on Cybertron, the Sentinels; and Sarah gave him a history on his family, their ups and downs, their lives and the deaths. And somehow the conversation turned to his current life and Cathy Lee. Jeff was startled when he heard himself mention her name.   
Sarah smiled softly. "It's not evil to love someone else, Dad. You have been alone for a long time. I know Mom would want you to live a normal life."   
He inhaled deeply.   
"You love this other woman, right?"   
Jeff nodded.   
"Then go for it."   
He laughed. "Easy for you to say, Sarah."   
"Why? She loves you, you love her. I think it's a very simply decision. Dad, you can't hide behind your past. Mom died and she loved you. I know you loved her as well, but you can't live the rest of your life – a very long life – with a vow taken so long ago."   
He knew his daughter was right, still....   
"Dad, believe me. She would want it."   
Yes, Megan would have wanted it.   
We have to leave>   
Jeff winced and Sarah immediately picked up on it. "Something wrong?"   
"We have to leave. I've been here too long. Wild Card is a sitting duck. You know how it is...."   
She nodded. "I know. Dad...." She hesitated. "Can I accompany you?"   
Jeff hesitated as well.   
"I want to meet your partner, please?"   
"Okay...."   
It's okay with me, Jeff>   


Sarah looked at the golden-brown and green fighter plane sitting hidden in the small forest. It had a sleek, smooth and somehow dangerous looking design. The Sentinel symbol was visible on the wings.   
"Sarah, this is Wild Card. Wild Card, my daughter Sarah."   
The plane transformed and Sarah stifled a surprised gasp. The tall robot looked down and then knelt in front of her, smiling. "Hello, Sarah," he greeted her, voice gentle and dark.   
"Uhm, hello, Wild Card." She felt her father's hand on her arm and gave him a smile. "It's okay, Dad. I just haven't seen one of them in such a long time....."   
"We have to go, Jeff," Wild Card reminded him.   
He nodded, turning to his daughter. "Thank you for everything, Sarah. Take care."   
"You too."   
They embraced and then she stepped away from him. Sarah looked at the Sentinel.   
"And you take good care of my father."   
Wild Card's expression turned soft. "I will, Sarah. You have my word." He rose and nodded at Jeff.   
"Don't be scared," her father said and suddenly he dematerialized.   
Sarah blinked.   
"It's called phasing," Wild Card told her.   
"I heard about it..... I was just surprised to see it." She looked up at him. "Good-bye."   
Wild Card nodded and launched himself into the air, transforming into his jet mode. Then he was suddenly gone.   
Sarah stood in the place for a very long time, the only reminder of this encounter the slowly disappearing imprints in the mud and her memories.

* * *   


IV. Shattered Ties

The brightly colored truck broke every speed limit there was, but no one was around to witness the mad streak or red, yellow and orange racing relentlessly down a deserted highway. If any Highway Police officer would have been there, watching for speed violators, he would have been surprised by the mph the truck was doing. It seemed impossible that a vehicle this size could be so fast. But this was no normal truck; this was an Autobot.   
The highway was old and no longer used by any sane motorist since the new one had been built. The road was full of holes, litter and dead plant life blown in from across the fields. The Autobot truck's tires crunched some debris and plowed on, its engine wailing under the strain. Rodimus Prime didn't care. His mind was a mixture of rampaging emotions and pain -- not physical, all emotional.

''Roddy?"   
"Hmm..." He was still upset.   
"Oh, stop it! Gaelon didn't hurt me!" Seeing his continued disapproval of the entire thing, she lost her temper. "Geez, Roddy, what is it with you today?

A blur of white.

"She's still in the area, then. I hope," Rodimus said almost to himself. "Shanygn, can you..."   
He stopped as he saw her vacant expression and felt her calling Gaelon. He tensed, keeping his temper in strict control as she was once again enveloped in the warm glow of the Veneran.   
......   
Rodimus watched his Interface as the golden light brightened, then died, except for her eerily glowing eyes.   
[Roddy, Gaelon's taking me to Firefall] The half-aware message was weak, distant.   
"Gaelon's what?" Rodimus answered aloud, shocked as he realized exactly what she meant.   
It was already too late. Shanygn-Gaelon was already up and out of the medbay, moving faster than any organic could hope to run. Rodimus belatedly followed, an irrational anger at both his Interface and the mysterious energy being welling up inside him.   


Irrational anger still cooked inside of him at the take-over -- the possession. He steered wildly off the highway and his shock absorbers were hard pressed under the sudden new strain of an uneven dirt road. His fuel pump was racing and pumping more energon through his circuits, trying to satisfy his need of more speed, more madness -- to forget what was constantly on his mind.   
Shanygn was possessed by an alien energy being and he had no chance at all to get her back. She was doing it voluntarily, for Primus' sake! His mind screamed at him that she had left him, but this wasn't any kind of normal partnership; they were Interfaced, not married!   
Rodimus suddenly stopped and skidded sideways a bit. His trailer came into sharp contact with some rocks, but he felt the jolt only peripherally. Transforming he sent the trailer into subspace. His hands clenched and unclenched and his mind was awhirl with contradicting emotions. All of it had started only a few days ago after the strange female robot had crashed on Earth and had been taken to Metroplex. Nothing had really pointed toward the catastrophic development of the whole situation. Rodimus trembled with pain, intermixed with an irrational surge of hatred at a being he didn't even know. He knew a name and that this creature seemed to live in some kind of symbiosis with the female robot -- Firefall. And then there was the symbiont, Gaelon -- who had taken his Interface away!   
He felt like screaming as he became acutely aware of the empty space inside of him. Gaelon could apparently take over Shanygn's body and effectively cut off their link. Shanygn didn't mind the whole possession because they needed a link to the entity inside Firefall to help the badly injured robot. But why Shanygn? His trembling increased. And why didn't she seem to mind? They had fought several times because of this and she refused to stop playing host body, arguing that they needed the contact, that no one else would most likely be accepted. Gaelon knew her.   
Then keep her! part of his mind screamed. Shut me out and separate us! Do it! Destroy what we fought so hard to build!   
His blue optics glowed deeply with a mixture of fear of what this would imply for his future, and the acceptance that Shanygn was lost to him. Another being had claimed her as her partner and he would be alone. He had a life partner in Sil and he wouldn't be physically alone, but the empty space the Matrix had left would once again open up. Rodimus sank to the ground and pulled his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. Inside of him the acceptance grew and he knew he had to make it easier for them all. He had to start separating. A small part of his rational, logical mind contradicted the move, telling him this was only temporary, but he didn't listen. All the anger of the last days vented into this decision; he would simply shut Shanygn out until they separated one way or another. Rodimus brought up every shield he had, wrapping his mind and every link into a tight, protective shield. A hurting emptiness, like a tiny black hole, seemed to grow in strength inside of him. He knew that feeling. It was the same he had felt when the Matrix had been removed.   
He buried his head in his arms, tremors running through his body as he felt himself drift further away. A part of him still insisted he was wrong, that this was just to help Firefall and give Gaelon a chance to communicate, but then there was that part of his memory reminding him of the first take-over, then how Firefall had nearly killed him -- though Shanygn insisted that if Firefall would have wanted to kill him, he would be dead now. Rodimus sighed shakily. Shanygn had made a decision. She was staying in med bay with Firefall, surrendering her body and mind to Gaelon, and the two of them, whenever they had met lately, had fought loudly.   


"What the hell did you think you were doing, pulling a stunt like that?"   
Shanygn looked up at him, startled at the tightly controlled anger in his voice. Irritation sparked in her eyes. "Trying to save Firefall's life, in case you hadn't noticed," she snapped in answer.   
"And giving Gaelon a chance to kill both of us!" Rodimus got to his feet, looking down at his partner.   
"Gaelon's not about to kill anybody, Roddy! If she were, you'd have been dead back in medbay when you threatened her!"   
"And what was she trying to do a few minutes ago? Give me a neck massage?"   
"Gaelon had nothing to do with that!" Shanygn shot back. "That was your own damn fault for setting off Firefall's security programming again!"   
"If I remember correctly, it was her security programming in control in the first place! It could have killed you!"   


It was their first big fight about this and their smaller fights had added up to a strained relationship. And to top it all, their mind link was weak and unstable thanks to Gaelon.   
Rodimus inhaled and stared at his shaking hands, feeling the link weaken more, severing with the force he was exceeding on it. Skywolf had told him that there was no chance in hell that an Interface link could be severed by the attempt of one partner, but they weren't a Sentinel Interface.....   
A breeze brushed over the ground, carrying with it sand and dust which settled on Rodimus. He didn't mind at all, sitting alone in the desert, his mind tightly wrapped in shields.

*

Silhouette drummed her fingers on the wall, her optics scanning the horizon. Where is he? he thought sourly.   
Rodimus had left Autobot City some time ago and had told Blaster not to expect him any time soon. Blaster had known better than to ask stupid questions and since Rodimus was carrying a beeper and homing device there was nothing extraordinary about it. The second-in-command sometimes ventured out without an explanation and Blaster was used to it. Now Sil could strangle the communications expert for not asking.   
Ever since Firefall had arrived things had gone badly. Rodimus was a walking bomb, his temper only one word away from exploding and his face a tightly controlled mask. Sil had heard about Gaelon's ability to link with Shanygn and she suspected it had something to do with this. She would have to talk to Shanygn about it, ask her what was wrong between the two of them, what was happening. This was affecting not only Silhouette, but also everyone around Rodimus.   
The female Dinobot turned and walked into med bay where Shanygn was still watching over Firefall. Med bay was thankfully empty with only Perceptor working in one area. He ignored her as always, which was nothing personal; it was just him. When he was absorbed in a project he forgot the world around him. Shanygn sat at a computer terminal and read something. When Sil approached she looked up and smiled.   
"Hi. Nice to see you again."   
"Hi, Shan. Have you seen Roddy lately?"   
Shanygn's face clouded. "Not only seen, but also argued with him. I don't know, but somehow we can't seem to talk to each other without him making smart remarks about Gaelon."   
Sil sat down on a chair. "You can't blame him, Shan. Gaelon blocked you effectively and deprived him of your Interface."   
"That's a childish reaction still!" Shanygn protested. "He knows it's Gaelon's only chance to communicate and our only chance to understand Firefall better."   
"Of course, but he seems to feel set back anyway."   
Shanygn sighed deeply. "I'll talk to him the moment Gaelon goes back into Firefall and ...." She stopped in mid-sentence and her eyes widened as if in sudden shock. She paled visibly, stumbling a bit, her hands flailing out to get some support.   
"Are you all right?" Sil asked worriedly, ready to hold her if she lost balance. "What's wrong?"   
"Gaelon just left me alone," Shanygn breathed, "and the link reactivated..... He's not there...." She pressed her lips into a tight white line. "Everything is empty!"   
"Did something happen to him?" Sil wanted to know in alarm. "Did he get hurt?"   
"No, I don't think so. I believe I would have felt it even with Gaelon inside and she confirms it.... It's like he isn't there any longer...." Shanygn hesitated, her face still pale, her eyes large. "Where did he go?"   
"Uh, Blaster could locate him. I think he went on a drive through the countryside." Sil rose from the chair. "Let's find out.

*

Gaelon had retreated out of Shanygn's mind when she had heard Sil's comment about Rodimus Prime's behavior and apparent state of mind. She knew this link to Shanygn was hard on the Autobot and she knew he was furious about it, hating her and Firefall for something Shanygn had volunteered to do and hadn't been forced into, as he loved to put it. Like all Sentinel Interface partners he was very protective of his humanoid partner, even though he had never really been born to Interface like this. The Matrix had created this ability and with it had healed an emotional wound inside of him.   
Which I somehow opened she thought sadly, watching Shanygn follow Sil to the communications center and inquire about Rodimus Prime's position. She had not retreated altogether. A small part was still in Shanygn, watching. Gaelon had felt the emptiness slam into place the moment she had retreated completely and it had shocked her. Every time before today there had always been the reassuring presence of Rodimus, in the background, simply there. Now he was gone and it felt like an artificial separation.   
He wouldn't!   
Well, maybe he would.... she had to concede, but why?   
Shanygn decided to go out alone and talk to him. Sil argued against it, but finally succumbed to logic, though grudgingly. The humanoid woman activated her exo-suits thrusters, extended her wings and took off.

*

Rodimus had lost track of time. He had wandered aimlessly around for some kilometers and finally sat down again, somehow totally lost and unable to do anything. He was afraid to go back to Metroplex, to see Shanygn and how she connected to Gaelon. Maybe he should transfer back to Cybertron, get some distance between them, though distance had never separated an Interface link.   
But we are not really Interfaced like a Sentinel. It could work.   
No, it wouldn't, his rational side told him. He started to tremble again.   
And then Shanygn landed in front of him. He flinched back as he discovered the exo-suit clad woman, who looked very pale and very worried. Instincts flared inside of him, the need to inquire what was wrong with her, but he squelched them.   
"Roddy? What's wrong?" Shanygn asked, coming closer.   
He felt something brush over the outermost shield around his mind and slammed up another shield. In time this would drain him, most likely emotionally, but he wouldn't just give in. Shanygn flinched as she felt the shield, her brows drawing together.   
"What's wrong with you? You are shielding like mad!"   
"So?" he managed, noticing how shaky his voice was. Damn!   
"So stop this! What got into you? I know we fought lately, but I didn't think it would go this far! It hurts, Roddy!"   
She tried to contact him again and was again treated to another shield. Shanygn's pale face transformed into a mask of anger.   
"I'm just making it easier for you," he whispered harshly.   
"Easier? By shutting me out? What kind of crap is that? Roddy, you have pulled some crazy stunts lately, but this is so far gone I can't even see it anymore!"

In a corner of Shanygn's mind, Gaelon recognized the withdrawal as what it was: an attempt to set Shanygn free. She groaned and realized what the young Autobot was thinking. Maybe she had made a mistake by blocking their mindspeech abilities like that, separating them nearly completely. She hadn't seen how it affected Rodimus.

Rodimus didn't answer, simply turned away. Shanygn was confused.   
"Rodimus?" she asked softly, touching his arm. "What are you doing? Why?"   
She felt a tremor run through him, but no flicker of emotions reached her. He was keeping it all inside. And the emptiness hurt.   
"Setting you free," he finally whispered hoarsely and all the pain she knew he was feeling was relayed to her in his voice.   
Shanygn stared at him, mouth agape, her mind unable to comprehend what he had said. Set her free?   
"What... I mean .... Roddy, what are you thinking?!" she finally erupted in anger. "You know you can't separate an Interface partnership! And why would you want it? What did I do?" Her hand clenched around his forearm. "Damnit, what kind of mad streak is this!" Her voice had risen with fear. He couldn't mean this! They were Interfaced, closely connected! Fear rose inside of her, her stomach a tight fist of ice. She blindly reached out for Rodimus' mind and found only shields. Let me in! Damnit, open up!   
His tortured optics looked at her. "It's happening already ...." he said softly. "Ever since ....." He shrugged.   
Shanygn stared at him. "Since what?" And then a thought struck her. "Gaelon? Because she can possess me? Damnit, that's only temporary! I'm trying to help her and Firefall! This doesn't mean we aren't partners!"   
He shook his head. "I made too many mistakes and I won't make any more. Gaelon needs you and I don't...."   
"Bullshit!" Shanygn exploded. "You always needed me and I need you! Rodimus Prime, you are as pig-headed and blind as they come! This is temporary! Read it from my lips! Tem-po-ra-ry! Gaelon is not Interfaced with me, just using a link inside my mind, which coincidentally is also ours! The moment Firefall is up to it, Gaelon is back inside her!" She hit his forearm with her fist in anger, not even denting it slightly. "I know we fought about this and I know the possession was kind of sudden and without warning for you, but it's not forever!"

Gaelon had watched the two partners and decided it was time to add her share of help. She reached out to Rodimus and studied his shields. They were strong, but they would also soon crumble under the enormous pressure this separation created. He was channeling a lot of his energy into keeping them up, destroying himself, torturing himself.   
I should have realized this would happen, she scolded herself. They are too recently Interfaced and his protectiveness is almost possessive. He couldn't face losing her. And he's too selfless to hold on to her.....   
Gaelon touched the shields, testing them, then gave them one good shove. She was Veneran after all.....   
The shields collapsed.   


Rodimus gasped, feeling like he had been hit right between the eyes. Shanygn's knees gave way and she fell against his legs, her mind overwhelmed by the emotions she was swamped with. All of Rodimus' fears, his anger and pain, were coming toward her. Someone held her and she leaned into the large hand, aware he was cupping her, trying to help her. She knew he was just as confused and vulnerable right now as she was, all their shields down and their minds trying to reestablish a missing link. She felt him, touched him .... connected....   
And in the back of her mind she thought she felt Gaelon smile in satisfaction and then retreat completely. Shanygn concentrated on the edged, slightly spiked yellow energy pattern that was Rodimus' mind to her when they Interfaced. Normally it was a calm blue or speckled with white 'anger'. Now fear and pain had painted it yellow. She moved in, smoothed the edges and then concentrated on interlacing her mind with Rodimus', gently linking.   
When both of them were finally able to think clearly again, getting their basic shields up, Shanygn was trembling and she was aware just how tired and drawn Rodimus felt. She reached out with one taloned hand and stabilized herself against his legs, then looked up.   
Rodimus met her eyes and tried to say something, but she shook her head, smiling.   
[Let's get back and take some necessary off time] her voice whispered inside his mind.   
He nodded and slowly let go of her. She was still shaky and her knees felt like jelly, but she didn't collapse. Rodimus rose and then transformed, opening one door. Shanygn smiled and climbed inside. He drove back slowly, carefully, evading the rougher parts of the road.   
[Shan?] he said when Metroplex came into sight.   
[Yes?] She had half dozed off, exhausted from the ordeal.   
[I'm sorry -- for everything]   
She smiled and gently brushed by his mind. [It's okay, but you better talk to Sil. She's really worried and slightly pissed from what I saw in her eyes]   
[Oops] he muttered.   
Shanygn only grinned.

* * *   


V. Full Circle

"Do you love her?"   
Steve's head whipped up and his eyes widened as he stared at the black robot towering over him.   
"What?" he managed.   
Midnight sat down beside him, tilting his head. "You heard me. Do you love her?"   
"Who? Ashtar?"   
"No, the Tooth Fairy!" Midnight shook his head. "Of course I mean Ashtar!"   
Steve evaded the inquiring green gaze.   
"Well?" Midnight prodded.   
Steve played with a piece of rubble, absent-mindedly turning it over and over in his fingers. "I don't know."   
His partner frowned. "You don't know?"   
"Do you have an audio problem?" the human snapped angrily. "I don't know how I feel!"   
Midnight smiled gently. "I'd say you feel very much in love, Steve."   
"How do you know!?" Steve demanded angrily, his own emotions rising to battle him.   
The black Sentinel was quiet for a while, then he said softly, "Because I remember Chatera."   
Steve's face suddenly shadowed with remembered pain and he looked away, closing his eyes. A shudder ran through him. Midnight touched him gently.   
"Sorry," he whispered.   
Steve shook his head. "No, it's okay. It happened a long time ago."   
"And ever since that time you never dared to take this step again," Midnight added.   
Steve inhaled deeply. Yes, he had evaded any commitment more than a one-night stand. He had loved Chatera, he had been ready to explore having a family with her, but Interfacing had always stood between them. Chatera had been afraid of Midnight for a long time and though she had come to accept the Sentinel, she had never come to accept Steve's immortality. Chatera had loved him -- enough not to spend her life with him. It had hurt Steve and from then on he had rarely displayed open affection for the other sex. He had shut off this part of him, painful as it had been at first.   
"She won't die on you."   
Steve erupted from his sitting position. "Stop that! Stop trying to match-make! It won't work out!"   
"Why, Steve?" Midnight shot back.   
"Because ....." He made a helpless gesture. "Because she doesn't return my feelings."   
"How do you know?"   
The human clenched his hands into fists.   
"Did you ask?" Midnight dug deeper. "Did you tell her about your feelings? Steve, you can't go around guessing!"   
Blue eyes like ice chips flashed at him and Midnight felt his partner's anger hit him like a living wall. "Leave me alone!"   
"You love her."   
"I said leave!" Steve cried, shaking.   
"And you are destroying yourself not talking about it to her," Midnight continued relentlessly. "What can happen? She tells you she doesn't have the same feelings and you finally know for sure!"   
Anger and pent-up frustration hit Midnight and rocked him back. He gasped silently, reflecting it back almost instinctively. Steve went down on his knees, tears welling up in his eyes. Midnight touched his mind, facing part of Steve's hopes and fears as he did so. Steve was deeply in love with Ashtar and too stubborn to confess it either to himself or to ask her if she felt the same.   
I know you don't want to hurt her and I know you don't want to get hurt, but what you are doing now is more harmful than anything else, Steve> he whispered.   
Steve moaned. I can't!>   
You can and you will. You have to as well>   
What if ....>   
Midnight sent a silent wave of anger himself. No ifs! Face her!>   
Like you face Tarakk?> Steve yelled.   
That stung.   
Midnight stared at the smaller human, irrational fury rising inside of him. Steve inhaled deeply looking away.   
Sorry> he whispered. Cheap shot>   
The Sentinel's hands clenched and unclenched. But a justified one> he said slowly. Steve, I'm sorry... I just ... I don't want to see this die because neither of the two of you does the first step.....>   
Steve hid his face in his hand, rubbing his eyes. "I love her, Mid, but I don't want to hurt or scare her. I don't want to destroy our relationship by confessing it to her."   
"So you rather accept the status quo?"   
He nodded.   
"And how long do you think it will work like this?" Midnight asked quietly.   
"As long as it has to," was the barely audible answer.

* * *

Ashtar sat on the ground in front of the TV but nothing was on. It was switched off. For the first time since she had discovered this fascinating machine she had no interest in its magic whatsoever. Her mind was with someone else and it felt blunted somehow, like a traveler lost in the woods who again and again returned to the same place, unable to find the way back.   
She should have known it would come to this when she had first laid eyes on him. She only too clearly remembered that moment when she had looked into glazed blue eyes in a pale face of a seriously injured man. Within a second a lot had changed – her life had changed – and it had nothing to do with her partner returning to his planet of birth. If she had only .... if she had never ....   
She should not have let him touch her.   
Fang should not have given him permission to enter her quarters when she had been in heat.   
But it had happened and she had surrendered to the mischief twinkling deep into those ancient blue eyes, to his warm and caring nature, to his love. She should have sent him away after the first night and not given in to the weak part inside of her that had whispered 'I want a friend'.   
Now he was more.   
Shaking her head she buried her face in her hands. She had had her fill of mates for the heat times and they all had left her again, seeking pleasures for one night, fulfilling her own needs. She had gone on after each time.   
Not this time.   
Why had she let him touch her heart as well as her body? Why?!   
We change what we touch.   
It had been a saying on her planet. As primitive as her people were compared to the sentients she had met in her time with Fang, a lot of their ways and sayings were true.   
Why had she let him change her?

* * *

Midnight angrily paced around in the office, wishing he could beat some sense into his partner. Steve loved Ashtar and the Sentinel was sure that the feline woman returned the feeling, even if she didn't understand or want to understand it. Fang had dropped a few casual remarks that she thought about Steve a lot and that this was an indicator. Ashtar rarely ever seemed to mention a mate and if she did in more than one sentence it meant there was something deeper running. Midnight couldn't disregard his partner's discomfort; he couldn't watch him destroy himself with his feelings toward the woman.   
But what could he do? What he had done so far had made matters only worse. Maybe he should stay out of this, but somehow he couldn't. It concerned his partner!   
He opened a com line to someone who might be able to help.

*

Jill McKennan looked at the heap misery sitting forlornly in the day room, hugging a pillow to his chest. No one was here but the two of them, mainly because it was in the middle of the night and many were asleep or working their shifts. Steve had never looked so haggard. Well, maybe not since that fateful day they had connected them to the VR world. She hated to remember those days. Now it wasn't virtual reality crashing in on him; it was reality.   
"Steve?"   
His head came up, startled eyes staring at her. "Jill ...I didn't hear you come in."   
She smiled and winced at the dark circles under his eyes. He was in a really bad shape and Midnight's slightly lost condition was only a surface reflection of what Steve was feeling. He had to be shielding like mad, another factor adding to his devastating state.   
"I didn't make a lot of noise," she said and sat down.   
"Oh."   
He went back to sitting lost and alone on the couch. Jill studied him, knowing exactly what was wrong. Every Interface knew. It was an open secret. She had been so happy for her friend when he had finally come out of his shell, deciding that showing interest in the other sex wasn't a bad thing, especially for more than one night stands.   
"We were ready to put an APB out on you, you know," she said casually. "I had to ask Mid if you were still around or had decided to go on an unplanned vacation."   
Steve smiled weakly. "I wish."   
"Steve..... "   
"Don't," he begged.   
"Why? Because I might hit the right nerve?"   
He winced, shrugging.   
Jill placed a hand on his arm. "You love her."   
Steve winced again, his misery an almost visible cloak around him.   
Jill waited.   
"A lot," she added after some time. "I can see it."   
He shook his head. "It's not love."   
"You stare at her with this Look. You spend time with her. You hang around talking about her. You sleep with her." Wide, blue eyes stared at her in utter shock at the last statement and Jill chuckled. "It's not exactly a secret."   
"But...."   
"I have eyes, Steve. I saw the changes she evoked in you. And I saw the way she looked at you. Ashtar loves you, you love her .... why don't you realize it?"   
"She doesn't love me. She needs me.... It was a moment of ...," he blushed, "heat. I helped her and in a way she helped me." He evaded her eyes.   
Jill laughed softly. "Maybe it started like this, but I know from Kyle that she goes into heat only once a year." Her eyes sparkled. "And both of you didn't wait around for that to happen...."   
His blush deepened and Jill smiled even more. "No," he mumbled. "But for her ... it was never more than bodily need."   
"Are you sure?"   
He hesitated. Jill watched him closely.   
"Did you ever ask her?"   
Steve sighed. "Why? She wouldn't understand. She ....." He made a helpless little gesture. "I mean ...." He exhaled. "I don't know what to think or mean!" He erupted from his place on the couch and paced.   
Jill kept an eye on him, noting every move. He was under stress, most of it emotional. His eyes held a haunted look.   
"So you love her?"   
"Yes!" he exploded, turning to face her. "Yes, yes, yes! I love her! What else do you want to hear? It won't help, Jill! There are no feelings to return!"   
"You never tried."   
Steve was trembling, his eyes a whirlpool of emotions, a mirror of his tortured soul. He was very close to breaking down and taking Midnight with him. Jill wished she could talk to Ashtar, make her realize how much she was hurting the one she loved. But Ashtar was nothing but a fleeting image sometimes, someone never seen long enough to even say 'hi'. Nicholas had once jokingly proposed a game of 'Spot Fang's Interface', comparing who saw her for the longest time and who managed to say a greeting before she fled.   
The white-haired woman rose and took him by his shoulders. "Steve, talk to Ashtar. Your life has just started to take a new turn and you have to follow it! I know what I'm talking about. I know love and I know loss." She smiled gently. "I don't want you to suffer the last without experiencing the first."   
Their eyes met and she knew she was getting through. At least a bit. She remembered a time, long ago in human terms, when Steve would not have thought twice about this, when he would have tried to have this relationship. She remembered Chatera, a lively young woman with a lot of dreams and a lot of love to give. She had readily given it to Steve, accepting his Interface, accepting Midnight, but then she had realized what it really meant. And Steve as well. Jill remembered the time after that, a time of a similar misery, though not that pronounced, and Steve's decision never to let it happen again. That had been over 1800 years ago.   
Jill sighed. Her friend had not had a steady relationship all that time, leaving the women he met after only a short while, telling them and himself it was better this way. Jill could relate to it in many ways, but she had not chickened out of the inevitable. She had lived through it and had grown stronger.   
She felt Steve tremble again and hugged him gently. "Just try it," she said when she released him again. "Don't assume – find out!"   
"Okay," he whispered, inhaling deeply, trying to pull himself together.   
Jill watched him leave, sighing.   
You think he will do it?> Skywolf asked softly.   
They rarely used their mind-link but today he had eavesdropped.   
Yes. I just hope Ashtar stays put long enough to listen to him – and see him. Her fear gets in the way>   
Skywolf sighed. Fear of commitment?>   
Fear of herself>   
Oh>   
Jill left the room as well, wishing Steve all the best. There was nothing more she could do.

*

Steve looked at the woman sitting curled up the couch, looking like she was ready to bolt from her own quarters.   
"Ashtar...."   
She shook her head. "Stop before you say something irrevocable."   
"But I want to start something irrevocable! I love you!"   
"You cannot love me," she told him firmly.   
"Why?!" he exclaimed.   
"How can you love something like me?!" she demanded. "I am a freak!" Her voice wavered and her slender body started to tremble ever so slightly.   
"What?! 'Something like you?' Ashtar, no!" Steve stepped closer but she moved back against the arm rest of the couch. He stopped again. "You are not a freak," he whispered.   
Ashtar looked at the ground. "I am. I am not like you, not even of your kind. I might be Interfaced but it is what branded me."   
"Branded? Not of my kind? You are not branded and I don't care what race you are of! I love you, Ashtar! What about your feelings?" he now asked and she flinched. "Was it really just the need in heat?"   
"Yes, it was!" she cried. "I used you, okay?! I used every male I ever met! I needed you to satisfy my body and it's over!"   
"No!" he contradicted, trembling himself.   
Ashtar jumped up and glared angrily at him. Steve stepped into her way, ready to stop her if she started to run.   
"You let me touch you several more times -- outside heat..... why? Because you felt you had to or because you felt yourself wanting to?"   
She didn't answer.   
"Ash, I love you. It's not an empty phrase! I ... I want to spend my life with you!"   
"Like you wanted to spend your life with Chatera and then ran out on her?" she asked and immediately regretted it. Steve winced, his eyes glazing over with long-lost pain now resurfacing and his hands shook. He balled them into fists.   
"How do you know about that?" he asked in a low, almost dangerous voice, but she heard his pain, his emotional turmoil. She had opened old wounds.   
"I just ... heard. I was curious. I ...." She hugged herself.   
"Curious enough to dig that out?"   
"You dug around in my past as well!"   
Steve looked caught, but the sadness was still lingering. "Because I wanted to know why you are afraid of committing yourself...."   
She was silent for a while. "Why did you leave Chatera? For real, I mean."   
The dark-haired human trembled again. "I don't think this is the right time to discuss this."   
"It is. Why, Steve?" she demanded. "Would you leave me of the same reason?"   
"No!" he cried. "Ashtar, no, never! Chatera was mortal.... she'd die while I would live on. I wouldn't be able to have children without always remembering they would die on me too! I was alone and longing for a partner, then realized what the future would hold.... It was the only path open to me."   
"So you used her to satisfy your needs and dumped her!" she growled, again delivering a low blow. "Now you used me, right? Because you needed me! And since I'm Interfaced you made your move on me?"   
He stared at her in shock. "What?" he managed.   
"I am Interfaced; I'm no longer mortal. You can have me and not see me die. We can't have children as well, true, but since our bodies are not compatible that's not much of a problem either, right?"   
"I don't want to have you! I respect you. And I want to spend my life with you, not claim you as a trophy! What do you think I am?" Steve's voice rose, anger flooding through. "I didn't dump Chatera and I didn't use her for my pleasures! And neither did I ever want you for just bodily needs!"   
Ashtar shook her head again. "I wouldn't be right for you."   
"Why?!" he exclaimed. "I feel you are right for me, as you put it! Please, believe me!" He reached out with one hand but when she moved further away he let it fall to his side again. "Whatever your people told you, it was their fear speaking. You are not a freak! Neither of us it! None of us thinks of you as an outsider, someone different."   
She met his eyes, noting the pain and desperation, as well as lack of sleep, exhaustion and pain. Her heart and soul reached out, wanting to comfort him, but her mind reigned them in. His words struck her. She knew he loved her and she loved him just as deeply, but what if.... what if .... She moaned inside. Ancient words of hatred came back. Her people had told her she was no good, she was an outsider, changed from her kind.   
But so was he.   
Steve had once tried to fight this loneliness he had to endure and had failed to find the strength. He was afraid to lose his mate and offspring.... he wouldn't lose her. She would be with him.   
His blue eyes drew her toward him and she saw them brimming with tears. His trembling hand hesitantly reached for her and she stepped closer.   
"I love you," she whispered.   
Steve's face lit up and his smile flooded her with warmth as he heard the words he had been longing to hear.   
Ashtar reached out and touched his face. She kissed him gently, then buried her head in his shoulder, hugging him, holding on to him. She felt his arms tighten around her as well, holding on for dear life. His head was resting in her hair and she felt the tremors running through his body, a slight sob passing his lips.   
Ashtar detached herself, feeling him cling to her, finally looking at him – really looking. Steve looked terrible, eyes lying deep. He hadn't slept in days, well, not really slept, and exhaustion showed in every move he made, every little gesture.   
"Come," she said softly, leading him over to the bedroom.   
Steve followed her, stumbling slightly. His body, no longer running on adrenaline, was demanding rest and it was shutting down. Ashtar knew he wouldn't make it to his quarters. Steve would fall asleep on her the moment he saw a bed. He was in no condition for anything more than a long rest. He gave a mumble she couldn't understand and had to smile. His eyes were already half-shut, his features relaxing. Ashtar covered him with a blanket.   
"Sleep," she whispered, not even sure Steve heard her.   
Then she sat back, eyes pinned on the exhausted human, reaching out and brushing through his tousled hair. She loved him. Deeply. And now she knew that these feelings were returned.   
'You always knew that,' a tiny voice whispered. 'You just never wanted it to be confirmed. You were afraid.'   
Yes, she had been afraid. But why? It had been an irrational fear. Her fear had resulted in suffering.....   
Ashtar curled up beside Steve. They had been together outside heat and this should have given her a clue. A big kick even. But she had denied it. He had been the first male she had allowed to touch her outside her time of intense need...... Why? Because he had wanted it? No. Because she had wanted him as well.   
Closing her eyes, Ashtar fell into a light sleep.

* * *   


VI. Lessons

"You can't be serious!"   
Jefferson Winters grinned brightly. "Dead serious," he answered lightly.   
"We had a deal!"   
"I said I'd teach you how to fly. That's what I'm doing."   
Catherine Lee Russell, Earth's evaluator on Cybertron, stared at him with disbelief in her eyes. "We were talking about theory!"   
"No, we were talking about teaching you how to fly. I never limited it to theoretic knowledge."   
Cathy Lee stared. "I won't set a foot into this plane!"   
"It's a simulator."   
"No."   
"Cathy...."   
"I said no!"   
Jeff raised an eyebrow. "So you'll just take a head dive in when it comes to do or die? You have no clue what you need to do when F/X needs you to Interface in battle!"   
Her lips became a thin white line. "I'm not a battle pilot!"   
"Neither was Kyle. Or Jill. Or Kayla. They all had to learn to handle the fighting part of their Interface partnership, which includes learning to fly your partner in his alternate mode," he explained to her.   
Cathy Lee growled something. "You said I'd learn through my link."   
"Not everything. F/X can't explain to you how you have to fly him because he uses different means of keeping himself airborne. He is a plane. He knows what to do, you don't."   
"Then why am I learning on a simulator?" she asked pointedly.   
Jeff grinned, noting how she had accepted that she had to get into the machine now. "Because crashing F/X is more painful for the two of you than crashing a simulator."   
"Who says I'm crashing it!" she asked challengingly.   
"Who says you don't?" he returned the question with his obnoxious, now slightly annoying bright grin.   
Cathy Lee heard soft laughter in her mind and introduced her partner to a shield right into the face. It amused F/X only more and she forcefully kicked him out.   
Cut it out or I'll show you something more painful than a crash!>   
Oh?> he chuckled. Now you made me curious!>   
She kicked him again.   
"Okay," Cathy finally ground out. "I'll try this. But don't think you'll ever get me airborne!"   
"We'll see," Jeff only said and ushered her into the simulator.

*

Cathy Lee couldn't say that Jeff was a bad teacher. He was an excellent one, really. No wonder. He had spent the last years on Earth, before his Interface, as a flight instructor, and he had tried to continue his job on Cybertron. Now he was teaching classes in Strata-Mainframe, sometimes consisting of only four students. Cathy Lee had had to sit in on the theory stuff and though she had thought it to be boring, it had turned out be quite interesting and a lot had stuck. Jeff hadn't taken on the job to earn money because he needed it but because he wanted it. He wanted to relay what he knew to those who wanted to know. It had given Cathy Lee room for thought. She was still officially working for Earth and received paychecks but it was time to bail out. It was time to really accept what she had become: F/X's Interface partner.   
Her main problem was finding a way to live this life. She didn't want to be handed quarters and food because she was bonded to a Sentinel. She wanted to work. Jeff had found his teaching job, Kayla helped out in med bay, just like Kyle and Jill, though Jill was more or less doing lab work.   
Russell had a legal training and she was trying to get into something dealing with legal rights or ambassadorial matters. Jeff had offered to help her but she was too proud for that, and too stubborn. She wanted a job because of her skills, not because of her status. None of the companies or private businesses she had applied for a job to had known about her Interface relationship. Well, she had to wait and see.   
And now she was here.   
Cathy Lee tried to remember everything Jeff had taught her and came up with a total blank.   
Relax>   
Relax?! I can't relax! I'll crash!>   
F/X chuckled. No, you won't>   
She looked at the complicated array of controls and moaned. A minute ago she would have been able to tell everyone what was what, but now.....   
"Okay," Cathy Lee now mumbled, giving herself a quick run-through, feeling knowledge come back.   
She waggled the rudders and played around for a second, then increased throttle and taxied out. She was glad Jeff had not voted to throw her right into a battle situation, though this was just as bad.   
And then she took off like a rocket.   
Cathy heard a surprised yell and realized it was her. She was pressed into the seat, though not as badly as she would have thought.   
F/X sent a wave of exhilaration through her and she slammed up a shield. She didn't need this right now. Cathy adjusted wing sweep and camber, then checked altitude and speed.   
Everything looked okay. The wing tips were leaving wispy trails of contrail and she was climbing steadily, punching holes into the clouds and emerging above them.   
"See? It's not as bad as it seems," Jeff said over the com line. He and Wild Card were flying beside her, far away not to be intruding but close enough to resemble a bit of moral support.   
"Sez you."   
Breathe deeply. Nothing will happen>   
Cathy Lee concentrated on her task of flying her partner.   
Suddenly F/X banked left and she let out a scream of fear and surprise. F/X laughed.   
"Idiot!" she screamed, thumping the dashboard.   
"Relax!" F/X called happily. "This is fun!"   
"Fun?! You call this fun! We need to have a long and serious talk about your definition of fun, Mister!"   
F/X only chuckled.

*

"I'm not wearing this!"   
Jeff rolled his eyes and simply tossed her the helmet.   
Cathy caught it, glaring at him, though she had to admit it looked stylish and very good. Jeff was already dressed up in his body armor, a deep green metal that dully reflected the light. It was the same green Wild Card had in his coloring. Every Interface chose the colors of his partner, which had given Steven Parker a completely black armor. Jeff had not copied the golden brown, though. For her body armor, which she hated, Jeff had combined the dark blue of F/X with some silver and yellow lining. It was mostly dark blue though. She liked the color, she hated the armor.   
"It's what you need, Cathy, believe me. The sooner you get used to it, the better. Being Interfaced doesn't mean you have to become a warrior; it means you have to prepare."   
Cathy Lee looked at the helmet and turned it in her hands. She carefully set it on her head. It wasn't heavy and it fit perfectly.   
"I still don't like it."   
Jeff grinned. "Looks good on you."   
She grimaced. "And now?"   
"Now you'll learn how to use it."   


Three hours later she was sweating, out of breath, but still grinning. Jeff had to hand it to her, she was good. Cathy was not a trained warrior, but she knew some mean moves and having to wear body armor didn't mean she was hampered. She had hit him more than once and it had been quite a blow. She was a quick learner concerning certain functions of the body suit and all she had to get used to was the fact that she was a lot stronger in it than normally.   
"End of lesson," he now panted and took off his helmet.   
Cathy grinned even more. "Already? I was just getting warm."   
"Well, we can always take the guys up for a mock battle scenario....." he teased.   
Cathy Lee tossed her helmet at him. "Without me, Mister. Last time was enough."   
F/X laughed and she didn't have the strength to shut him out. Shut up!>   
He giggled.   
Next time I'll make sure your wings get bent!>   
Jeff grinned at her expressions, knowing she was communicating with her partner and feeling proud of it. A few months ago she would not have acknowledged the bond, let alone her ability to communicate by link, but now she used it as normally as any of them.   
"Care for some lunch?"   
Cathy Lee looked at her watch. "Let's make it dinner and I'm game."   
They left together to change into their street wear.   
"Good thing I dragged you of the office, eh?" he asked as they headed for the changing rooms.   
"You? Dragged me?" She laughed.   
"If I may remind you, you were resisting any kind of out-of-the-office work and refused to even sit in on the lessons."   
"You are dreaming, Winters."   
"Want me to rerun the tape?"   
"You didn't record the conversation."   
Jeff grinned evilly. "How can you be so sure?"   
Cathy's eyes narrowed. "If you did, you are dead," she stated flatly.   
I remember you saying.....>   
And you too!> she snapped at F/X.   
Jeff only grinned and so did F/X. What the hell had she gotten herself into?

* * *   


VII. The Healing Time

"Is something wrong with Spellbinder?"   
The innocent question drew a faint smile out of Voodoo. The latest addition to their forces wore a decidedly confused expression.   
"Nothing serious, Fang," he answered.   
"Oh."   
Fang didn't dig deeper, apparently thinking it might be offensive. Voodoo shook his head.   
"It's because of Kayla," he elaborated now. "She is going through the Cleaning again and it always affects him as well. Like I said, nothing serious, but it makes him a bit distant each time and he always votes to spend the time separate from us." Voodoo shrugged.   
"Cleaning?" Fang blinked. "A ceremony?"   
The other Sentinel nodded. "I never asked for details. You'd have to go to Jill for them; she knows. But it involves old ceremonies from Kayla's people. She performs this Cleaning every ten years."   
Fang looked intrigued. "Ah."   
Voodoo left him alone with his thoughts and Fang felt Ashtar's interest. His Interface partner phased out of him.   
I'll ...well...>   
He grinned, nodding. See you>   


Ashtar stood in front of Kayla's door and hesitated. Maybe she was intruding. Maybe she was about to break into the ceremony and destroy everything..... Maybe.... Doubt washed over her in great waves. She respected Kayla and felt a certain kind of kinship to the alien woman. She had come from almost the same background Ashtar had, a world very primitive compared to Earth or Akhri or Cybertron, and she had been thrown into this technological nightmare without getting asked. She had managed and she had grown, her past still with her in many ways, but she had adapted to the 'civilized' ways. And she was one of the first Interfaces. Ashtar saw a strong woman in Kayla whenever she looked at her and she wished she could be just as strong. She had yet to even approach her openly. They had exchanged less than ten words in all the time, mainly because Ashtar had been too frightened to talk.   
And now.... now she was too frightened to knock.   
The decision was taken out of her hands when the door suddenly opened and she was faced by Kayla. She was not wearing her usual clothes but a kind of robe. It fell loosely over her body, hiding her completely. It was colored in a dark brown and light beige. There were no arcane symbols or magical signs anywhere.   
Ashtar moved back, feeling embarrassed. "I ...sorry... I didn't...."   
Kayla smiled. "I know. Come in."   
Ashtar stared and her mouth moved. "Come in?" she finally whispered.   
The other woman nodded and made an inviting gesture. Ashtar stepped hesitantly into the room, expecting it to be dark or twilightish, but it was brightly lit. She had never seen any of the other quarters, except for Steve's, and she was surprised at how Kayla had decorated hers. A soft carpet covered the floor and plants were forming a living wall around the living area and the table close to the kitchen. The couch was nothing but an arrangement of big cushions, the table a rough wooden construction. Ashtar had to confess she liked it. It had a natural feel to it. A very natural one.   
"I don't want to intrude..."   
Kayla shook her head. "Nonsense. You are welcome, either to stay and watch or attend."   
Ashtar swallowed. "Thanks," she whispered.   
Kayla strode over to the table and knelt down in front of it. Ashtar didn't know what to do and her cautious steps finally took her over to the table and she sank down on one of the cushions, unsure what to do.   


Kayla was well aware of her watcher and smiled a bit while she concentrated on her task. She rarely did this outside the Cleaning and it was difficult to tap into her old powers, which had never been that strong to begin with. She had been stronger than the men in her tribe, but compared to those she had met in her long life, those with similar powers, she was weak.   
Her powers rose and she felt her body prickle and tingle. It felt good. In the back of her mind, Spellbinder hovered, mind at ease, letting it wash over him. The first time she had performed her Cleaning he had nearly freaked, feeling her powers run into his mind through the link, drawing him into her mind in returned and it had taken some coaxing to get him to open up and accept. It didn't hurt him, but the shock had sat deeply.   
Cleaning was an important part of her. It was what had survived all the millennia of being Interfaced; it was her past; it was her culture; it was her. Cleaning meant coming to terms with herself, her body, her mind, even Spellbinder, who was now a part of her and with it part of the Cleaning.   
Opening her eyes she had to smile as she met the fearful green eyes of Ashtar. The feline woman was feeling out of place, though she was interested. Many were and many had taken part in the Cleaning now and then. She remembered Steve most prominently, who had sat in with her the whole three days and who had come out of it with a much calmer state of mind. It had been shortly after he had met the Sentinels, shortly after the VR incident.   
"Relax," she now said, her voice soothing, the same voice she used as a Healer whenever it was needed.   
"What ... what is this all about?"   
Kayla explained it to her, noting how Ashtar's shyness and insecurity slowly receded and transformed into curiosity. Finally she nodded.   
"I understand. My clan had similar ceremonies... but...." She stopped, suddenly insecure again.   
Kayla decided not to ask. She rose, feeling her body radiate energy which moved like invisible tendrils around her. She picked up the tools she had always carried with her, the ones she had rescued out of her destroyed hut, a little reminder of her not so easy past. She walked over to the table and smiled at her companion.   
"Go with the flow," she advised and started for real.

Ashtar closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, smelling something like incense all around her, smelled the plants, the rugs, the cushions, everything. She seemed to float, totally relaxed, energies set free around her.   
For the first time since Interfacing she was no longer so wired, so tense, so afraid. She was opening herself to her fears and they were not as terrifying as she had thought.   
They were her.   
She accepted.

*

Spellbinder knelt on the floor, the wall against his back, hands resting on his thighs. His optics were dimmed and he seemed to be resting. His mind was open and drawn into the soft energies now permeating Kayla's body and mind, totally relaxed and unshielded. He felt his self realign itself, felt his tensions flow away, his mind sort itself out.   


Fang shuddered and groped for some mental stability, then sank down onto the chair, shuddering.   
Warmth, relaxation and safety flooded him.   
Healing.

* * *   


VIII. Apology

The door was locked.   
Not a very complicated one.   
Easy.   
She concentrated, found the circuits, activated the right connections and got a green light.   
Sparks walked into the room without hesitation, hearing the door shut behind her with a soft 'whoosh'. The room wasn't very large, the standard sized quarters for guests, and it held no personal features. No small wonder. The new occupant had only recently moved in. And this occupant now whirled around, the massive body moving with a speed belying the size, and stared at her.   
"How did you get in here?" Fang demanded, red optics glowing in anger.   
"Through the door?" Sparks answered with a faint smile.   
She was a tiny creature up against a giant snake. Well, she had faced worse.   
His optics flared. "Leave!"   
Sparks hopped onto the small desk standing shoved against a wall. It wasn't cluttered with files like Megatron's was. Everything was so empty and impersonal. And she had always thought Megatron was bad when it came to giving quarters some atmosphere. Well, granted, he usually decorated the walls with blaster marks.   
The black cat looked up at the serpent head hovering above her, hearing the low hisses, noting the furious glow behind the shields covering his optics. She had to give it to him, he came pretty close to Megatron's temper. But only close.   
"Not before I've done what I came here for."   
Fang hissed a warning, lowering his head so his snout was almost level with the table. "You just broke into my quarters. Either you leave under your own steam or I'll throw you out!"   
Nice temper, volatile temper, she thought. Well, he was entitled to one.   
"If you can catch me," she teased. "I train with the best."   
"Don't remind me of him!" The coiled body vibrated with tension.   
Ah. So he was still a bit sensitive concerning this. Sparks twitched her tail, trying to radiate calmness. It usually worked with Megatron.   
"Now get out!" Fang growled, baring his fangs in a threatening manner.   
Sparks didn't even twitch at the sight of the dangerous teeth. "Can I talk to Ashtar?" she asked reasonably.   
Fang's optics flared even more. "No," he ground out. He loomed over her, his expression far from friendly.   
"Please?" Sparks added.   
He hissed.   
"I won't leave until I have said what I came here to say."   
"Then say it!" he demanded harshly.   
"To Ashtar."   
He roared and his tail whipped past her, ruffling her fur. Sparks didn't even look at it, simply keeping her green gaze pinned on the enraged serpent Sentinel.   
"I can be a pest, you know. Ask him. He knows."   
The rumble coming deep out of his throat vibated off the walls.   
Sparks tilted her head again. "I won't move from where I sit, Fang, without your permission, I won't touch her and I will only talk."   
Fang exhaled sharply. He drew back, staring at her, indecision warring with rage.   
Suddenly the female Interface appeared beside him, almost hiding behind his coils. Sparks looked down from her place.   
"Can I move down or will you come up?" she asked calmly. "I don't like talking while looking down on my conversation partner."   
Fang looked at her, then nodded. Sparks made sure she was moving slowly. Ashtar flinched away when she was on the same level, touching Fang's coils for support.   
"Ashtar, I came here to apologize," Sparks now said softly, serious green optics on the woman.   
Fang blinked, lowering his head, gazing at her as if she had suddenly morphed into something totally new. "Apologize?" he echoed.   
The black cat nodded. "Because of what happened." She looked at the silent Interface. "For frightening you, Ashtar. I never intended that. It was an accident. I saw you and thought you were someone's pet, that's why I called Megatron." She smiled softly. "He isn't very good concerning public relations. He could have handled this better, but.... it happened."   
Fang hesitated and Ashtar was looking curiously at her.   
"He hurt you and so did I, indirectly. I'm so sorry it happened and I don't want this to influence your perception of us. I know this is new for you, but you will get used to it." She tilted her head, smiling. "Though I have to confess it takes some time concerning Megatron."   
"Why do you apologize for him?" Fang asked, honestly puzzled. "You ..... don't seem to like him."   
Sparks wrinkled her nose in mock disgust. "Don't remind me! He's a pain in the diodes and a threat to every computer monitor." She looked at Ashtar again. "But he is not a threat to you, Ashtar. I recommend a wide detour even when he is in a good mood, though. He is not a people person either." She flicked her tail. "Singed my tail once."   
Fang rumbled in surprise. Sparks grinned irrepressibly.   
"You are .... what?" Fang now asked, his anger smothered by his curiosity.   
Sparks started to give him a short view into her past, her relationship with Megatron – adding enough disgust so he got the right impression – and firmly told him that she was not his pet.   
Suddenly she looked at Ashtar. Her voice softened, caring. "If you want some help getting accustomed to this all, ask me. I know every corner around her." She grinned lop-sidedly. "Especially the cat places."   
Ashtar slowly detached herself from Fang and approached Sparks. The two felines regarded each other in silence.   
"Thank you," Ashtar finally said.   
Sparks smiled with relief. "You are welcome. And thank you for accepting the apology."   
Ashtar nodded. She reached out and   
hesitantly touched the larger cat. "Fur," she then muttered in surprise.   
Sparks reacted with a purr, startling Ashtar, but not frightening her. "Yes, fur. Don't ask me how, but it happened." She shrugged.   
Ashtar tried a smile and Sparks smiled back. She decided that she liked her fellow feline already.   
"I gotta go now before Megs kills some innocent pen. See you around."   
With that she disappeared, feeling relived that this burden had been lifted off her. It had weighed heavily because Sparks had been truly worried. The events had started when she had cornered Ashtar and everything would have run a much better and more peaceful path if she hadn't kept her prisoner.   
Well, she had apologized and she had meant it. Everything. She would gladly show Ashtar around. There wasn't a place she didn't know.   
Sparks smiled.   
It would be fun!   



End file.
